Strongheart's Tale
by PancakesWithMilk
Summary: It has been years since Firestar and the rest of the Old Clans left the forest from which all had been destroyed in the deadly fire. But in the elders they left behind a sudden idea began to form, and they called on all strays and loners without just the will to survive, and taught them the ways of the Clans. Now, the New Clans thrive, and one apprentice might change everything.


**WARNING: Before reading this story, you might be thinking, "Hmm, what a wonderful-looking little oneshot!" or, "Hmm, I wonder when the next chapter will be out?" or, "Hmm, I think I'd like a bagel right now! If only my boss would hurry up and stop hogging the cheese-maker maybe I'd be able to get some cream cheese before lunch's over." Well, you probably wouldn't be thinking that last one, and if you were, well, I congratulate myself for being an officially proven fortune teller! TRA LA LAAA!**

**So.**

**Anyway, this is NOT a wonderful-looking little oneshot. Well, it may LOOK wonderful, but really it's a terrible old thing and should be put to sleep immediately. It is actually a long long long long LONG tale, only suited for the keenly well-read and elderly people who have nothing else better to do (don't look so eager, old people! Go play a good old round of bingo or something!). And this, dear reader, is only Part One.**

**Well, with that done, I suppose you can go ahead and read. But don't blame me if your eyes start bleeding or your eyes fall out of their sockets or your lips leap off your face and go in search of some other face that's not glued to the screen all day. Although, if your face really WAS glued to the screen all day, then you should probably go outside and mingle before tragically admitting to your practically nonexistent social life and gluing your lips to the screen whilst reading this story. Good luck, and remember to bring your water bottle, for this is going to be one long adventure...! **

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**_~BEGINNING OF PART ONE~_  
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ALLEGIANCES

ThunderClan

Leader:

Antstar-small brown tabby she-cat with gray-blue eyes

Deputy:

Stormclaw-strong bluish gray tom with amber eyes

Medicine Cat (and Apprentice):

Nightshine-pure black she-cat with amber eyes

Harepaw-light brown tom with white paws and yellow eyes

Warriors (toms and she-cats without kits):

Burrpelt-light brown tabby with tangled fur and dark blue eyes

Whitecloud-strong white tom with amber eyes

(Apprentice: Ivypaw)

Graycloud-senior warrior she-cat with light gray fur and green eyes

Dawnfur-lithe, pretty she-cat with reddish fur and dark green eyes

Quillfur-skinny warrior tom with spiky brown fur and light blue eyes

Icefern-gray-and-white striped senior warrior tom with hazel eyes

(Apprentice: Mistypaw)

Lionclaw-golden-furred warrior tom with long claws and amber eyes

Sparrowfeather-graceful brown tabby she-cat with blue eyes

Blossompelt-white she-cat with gray-flecked paws and amber eyes

Duskyfoot-gray she-cat with amber eyes and white-tipped tail

Poppypelt-fiery orange senior warrior she-cat with deep blue eyes

Apprentices (cats training to be warriors over the age of six moons):

Ivypaw-black she-cat apprentice with yellow eyes

Mistypaw-light gray she-cat (with slightly darker specks) and hazel eyes

Queens (she-cats with kits)

Snowfrost-beautiful snow-white she-cat with ice-blue eyes, mother of Lionkit

Gingertail-ginger-colored tabby with slightly darker tail and green eyes, mother of Ferretkit

Crowtail-graceful ebony she-cat, mother of Leopardkit (and Ivypaw, in an earlier litter)

_-Prologue: A Rainy Day for a Gathering-_

Fernlight hobbled, unsteady on her paws, toward the fresh-kill pile. Her belly, swollen with kits, heaved with every panting breath. "I never thought carrying kits would be so hard," she puffed quietly to herself, then glanced quickly at two warriors basking in the shade of a mighty oak-Dawnfur and Graycloud. They were clearly enjoying themselves, chatting and sharing a sparrow. Fernlight envied their lithe, graceful figures.

"Fernlight, Fernlight!"

High-pitched squeals rang powerfully into Fernlight's ears, and she flinched slightly. Her ears were sensitive, more sensitive than most. Every cat in ThunderClan knew that. Sigh...except for the kits, of course.

"Fernlight!" Ferretkit and Leopardkit tumbled out of the nursery, with the queens Snowfrost, Gingertail, and Crowtail close behind.

"Greetings, Fernlight," Snowfrost meowed to the pregnant she-cat formally as they neared the fresh-kill pile, "How are you?"

"Hungrier than a starving fox," Fernlight replied, stabbing a dead shrew with one unsheathed claw and dragging it toward her savagely. She grinned as Snowfrost's polite expression stiffened, masking her disgust. Fernlight never knew why she liked tormenting Snowfrost so-the icy-white she-cat could just be too irresistible to tease.

"Well, yes," Snowfrost mewed, more quietly, eyeing the bloody shrew with a watery blue eye, "That must be the cravings setting in. If you ever need a mouse in the middle of the night, make sure to-"

"Oh, Snowfrost," Gingertail interrupted lightly. Her bushy, ginger-striped tail flicked playfully against the white queen. "You're too serious! Don't worry, Fernlight-having kits is fun. Well, not _having _them...but raising them is the best! I remember when I had my first litter-Flamebreeze was so proud!"

Gingertail's deep blue eyes moistened at the mention of her long-dead mate, who had been killed by greencough the last leaf-bare. Her words choked with sorrow, she continued on, "Burrpelt and Whitecloud are such good warriors. I don't know what I'd do without my wonderful sons."

Crowtail flicked one ebony ear in annoyance. Her signature squint loosened a little, showing a glimpse of amber-flecked green that shone in the beaming sunlight. "Fernlight doesn't need any more persuasion," she croaked suddenly, tail whipping around in frustration. "Fernlight, you're rounder than a ripe blueberry. You can't even fit in the warriors' den anymore! Face it, you mousebrained she-cat! You have to join the nursery, for the sake of your Clan!"

Leopardkit squealed in delight as she tripped over her mother Crowtail's paws, but her squeal turned into a painful wail when she tumbled to the ground, twisting around in agony. "My leg!" the kit wailed, "Crowtail, your claws were out! Ow...!"

Crowtail's slitted eyes flicked to Fernlight, then swooped down and picked up her squirming daughter in her narrow jaws. "Just remember, Fernlight," she mumbled between a mouthful of Leopardkit's black scruff, "We'll be waiting for you."

With one last flick of her tail, Crowtail headed toward Nightshine's den, with Snowfrost, Gingertail, and the rest of the stumbling kits crowding around Leopardkit, the two queens cooing over what a brave little kit she was and other fluffy compliments, the kits just curious to how bad the injury was.

Fernlight grunted as she grasped her battered shew in her mouth, carefully maneuvering over near the warriors' den, where she would be alone. Flopping down, exhausted, the pregnant warrior bit into her shrew ravenously. _Mmmmm_. So juicy! Fresh-kill always seemed to taste better these days, with the last icy tangs of leaf-bare leaving them to be replaced by lush-leafed plants and plumper prey.

Her large green eyes swiveled around the camp. Graycloud and Dawnfur had left to go hunting with Quillfur and Icefern. Nightshine, ThunderClan's medicine cat, was checking over the still-mewling Leopardkit. The other kits had gone back to playing with Snowfrost's kit, named Lionkit, whose golden fur gleamed brighter than the sun in daylight.

A smile flitted across Fernlight's face as she swallowed the last bite of shrew. Warmth filled her as she glanced lovingly down at her swollen belly. Would her kits be running around the camp, scampering after scraps of moss like Lionkit, Ferretkit, and Leopardkit, soon enough?

A purr rumbled in her throat, but dissipated when her littermate, Duskyfoot, galloped toward Fernlight, eyes shining. "Fernlight!" she gasped, "Did you hear? Leopardkit's got a scrape-from her mother! I heard Crowtail cuffed her too hard when poor little Leopardkit was playing with the other kits. Dawnfur thinks-"

"Who gives a flying mouse tail what Dawnfur thinks?" Fernlight mumbled under her breath, tucking her paws under her chest grumpily. Duskyfoot was always going on about the gossipy warrior-and she did, Fernlight assumed, because she was Dawnfur's best friend.

Duskyfoot licked her gray paw thoughtfully, amber eyes hurt. "Well then, what do _you _think, Fernlight? Since you're so quick to judge Dawnfur."

Fernlight rolled her eyes and scoffed, "I'm not judging. I just don't think you should take Dawnfur's gossip as if they were taken from the mouths of StarClan warriors."

"Whatever." Duskyfoot finished grooming her paw and turned her amber eyes to the cloudy sky. "Doesn't look like a good day to have a Gathering on," she commented with a sigh. Fernlight's frown melted as the pregnant she-cat glanced at her littermate. It was going to be Duskyfoot's first Gathering as a warrior. Her sister had had to have her assessment postponed when her mentor, Lionclaw, had battled a fox off their territory with the help of Whitecloud and Sparrowfeather. Fernlight had been lucky enough when her own mentor, Blossompelt, had suggested they had her assessment earlier that day.

"I'm sure it will clear up," Fernlight soothed her sister, sitting up and giving Duskyfoot a quick, comforting lick on the shoulder. "StarClan wouldn't want to ruin your first Gathering as a warrior. I'm sure of it."

Duskyfoot purred faintly, her eyes still riveted on the darkening sky. "But...it might rain," she said in a small voice. Fernlight's eyes glistened sadly. Despite her friend-picking faults, Duskyfoot had always taken the signs of StarClan more serious than others. Burrpelt and Whitecloud had often joked about her becoming a medicine cat apprentice when she was a young 'paw, but her heart had always lay in the path of a warrior. _Please, StarClan_, Fernlight prayed silently, _Don't ruin the Gathering tonight. For Duskyfoot, for my sister's sake. Please._

_-Chapter One: The Warrior Queen-_

_Drip, drip, drip_. Fernlight listened dully to the constant dripping of raindrops leaking through the warriors' den, where she lay, alone and sulking. Burrpelt, Graycloud, and Poppypelt were the only warriors left in camp-the others had all gone to the Gathering, despite the cursed rain. Antstar insisted, saying that the rain wasn't terrible and she was sure the other Clans were going to be there anyway. The warriors going with her weren't so sure.

Fernlight groaned as she felt her unborn kits squirm inside her belly. "Oh, my kits," she breathed, "You'll be born soon. I'm sure of it...you'll be born soon, my precious kits."

The rain pouring outside was calming, despite the circumstances, Fernlight noticed, then suddenly thought of the elders, Trembletail and Whitefoot, and chuckled at the thought of their complaints about the leakiness of all the dens. Poppypelt, Graycloud, and Burrpelt were going to have to handle the finicky former warriors all by themselves. At this thought, Fernlight felt guilt stab her in the chest. She couldn't help because of her round belly-she would only get in the way. That's the only thing she seemed to do these days, besides eating like a badger at meals. Fernlight gave a huge, gusty sigh. Maybe she _should _join the queens in the nursery after all.

As this thought drifted from her mind, Mistypaw and Ivypaw padded near the entrance of the warriors' den. "Fernlight?" called the apprentices shyly. "Are you in there? Is it wet in there? We're so sorry we didn't fix the den earlier..."

The cream-colored she-cat heaved herself up from her mossy nest and lumbered out of the warriors' den, shaking moss scraps from her soft pelt. Fernlight couldn't help but feel embarrassed as her belly jiggled, but Ivypaw and Mistypaw didn't seem to notice.

Rain pelted Fernlight's figure, and she cursed her stupidity. "...Sorry, Ivypaw, Mistypaw," she mumbled flusteredly, "I'll go with Poppypelt and Burrpelt...I'm sure you two won't need any help patching up the warriors' den, will you?"

The two apprentices glanced at each other simultaneously, then chimed, "No! We'll be fine, Fernlight. You go rest."

Fernlight tried not to let the relief she felt flicker in her eyes. "Alright then," she meowed, "I'll leave you to it. I'm feeling a bit thirsty anyway."

Before the younger cats could offer to get some wet moss for her to drink from, Fernlight hobbled determinedly away from the warriors' den, intent on getting her own water from the lake, even if it _was _farther away than an expecting cat should wander. She had a reputation to keep up, after all! If any of the other warriors saw her asking for watered moss-Dawnfur especially-she'd never hear the end of it!

After a few minutes of slow stumbling, Fernlight's ears perked up. It was the sound of rushing water! She was close to the lake! Her paws tingled with exhaustion, but she pushed on, opening her mouth to scent the tempting smell of fresh water, so sweet and refreshing. How delicious that first taste would be...!

Ignoring the raindrops plopping into the lake ceaselessly, not to mention on her soaked figure, Fernlight dipped her head to drink, and lapped up the icy water gratefully when she arrived. The ground was moist and squishy with mud that smeared on her paws. Her whiskers twitched, sending a fray of water droplets soaking into the mucky ground. But it was worth it-the water was tangy yet sweet. After Fernlight drank her fill, she slogged back to camp, muddy from her ears to her paws. _I bet no prissy queen has ever done THAT before_, she thought, giving a purr of amusement as she blundered through the icy rain, toward the ThunderClan camp she knew and loved.

_-Chapter Two: The Rain and the Strong-_

Nightshine knew before anybody else. That's what came with being a medicine cat-you _knew _things. Not incredibly important things, sometimes, but they came whether you liked it or not. According to Nightshine, instict was just as important as omens from StarClan. And her instincts led her to the striking realization that Fernlight was kitting. Now.

The black she-cat gathered her apprentice, Harepaw, and raced toward the nursery, heart pounding, with Harepaw by her side. When the pair arrived at the entrance, Gingertail skidded out to meet them, wailing, eyes wide with fear. "She's not in the nursery!" the queen yowled, "I don't know where she is! Last time I saw her she was going on a hunting patrol with Icefern and Mistypaw! Oh, Nightshine, she could be anywhere in the forest by now!"

Nightshine's heart thudded in her chest. "How did you know Fernlight was kitting?" she hissed urgently. Gingertail blinked rapidly, obviously scared for her fellow warrior. "I know the signs. The pains were coming more quickly. I could see it in her eyes. I know what it's like to kit all alone. I don't want that to happen to any other mother," she whispered in a trembling voice. Nightshine nodded solemnly, then murmured, "Thank you, Gingertail. I'll send Harepaw to go find them while I get the raspberry leaves."

The ebony medicine cat dashed off, with Harepaw veering off into the forest, quick as the wind. Gingertail watched them with eyes a fearful green.

Fernlight stopped to catch a breath, the other warriors on the hunting patrol continuing on, like she had asked the last few times for them to do. The convulsions were coming more now, vibrations making her belly tremble. Pain throbbed along with her heart, deep in her chest. Fernlight closed her eyes, breaths shuddery. Was it happening...?

No. It couldn't be. It wasn't supposed to happen until, until...when? When, exactly, was she supposed to kit? Usually, when a queen's belly was as full as hers, they would go to a medicine cat to receive the time, though it was usually a little later or earlier than what they decreed. Still, a medicine cat's words were more reassuring than none. Fernlight straightened up, tail whipping nervously in the breeze. "I...I think I should go back," she meowed faintly to Icefern and Mistypaw, who had stopped a few pawsteps away from her.

Their eyes gleamed with concern. "Fernlight," mewed Icefern, "Are you okay? Mistypaw, help me carry her back to camp. She looks a bit nauseated..."

Fernlight, usually so tense, relaxed in the steady grip of the warrior and his apprentice, only wishing for the pain to go away as they guided her like they would for a blind cat, with fur brushing hers every once in a while just to comfort her. "It's okay," murmured Icefern, "It's all okay. Be careful, Mistypaw! Don't let her fall, keep her steady..."

The pain was blinding, now, Fernlight acknowledged vaguely-her vision was blurry. Her paws stumbled over thick roots of sturdy oaks, and she could just barely make out the bobbing shapes of Nightshine and Harepaw, racing toward them as if ThunderClan's campgrounds were bursting with flames. Oh...ripples vibrated through her belly, a burst of pain so strong the breath left her lips, screams piercing the air.

She collapsed on something soft, moss-soft. The smell of Nightshine, chanting comfortingly to her, and Harepaw, hesitantly pressing a light paw to her belly to feel the convulsions under his mentor's orders. "Fetch me a stick," some cat murmured, and then something clamped in her jaws. She bit it hard, digging her sharpest incisors into the stick until it broke in two as another convulsion, another scream wracked her body. Then something slithered out of her onto the soft moss, something shiny and wet. A kit? _Her _kit?!

Harepaw steadily licked off the birth sac, the kit squirming and mewling wordlessly. Fernlight's eyes moistened as she heard its cries. "A she-cat," Nightshine murmured hushedly, "One more, Fernlight. Brace yourself, there's one more."

The words were still soaking in when another tremor rippled through Fernlight's belly, and she grasped one broken end of the stick, saliva bubbling over the ends as she shrieked. But the pain dissipated as another wet newborn kit slipped out into the world. After licking off the second kit-another she-cat-Harepaw and Nightshine nudged Fernlight's daughters toward her belly. They, mewling pitifully, pushed against her belly and started to hungrily suckle for her milk. Fernlight stared at her young ones, a deep, loud rumble of a purr filling her throat. One looked like their father, the noble warrior Stormclaw, with her bluish-gray fur. Fernlight looked up from her kits to see that she was in the nursery, with Gingertail, Crowtail, and Snowfrost gazing at her, joy shining in their eyes. "Oh, you've had your kits!" squealed Gingertail, "I've got to tell the others, they've just arrived from the Gathering...!"

As the ginger-furred she-cat rushed out of the nursery, Fernlight switched her gaze to the rain pitter-pattering on the nursery. It had started up again. She remembered how calming it was, and comforting the day before. Staring at her blue-furred kit again, Fernlight murmured softly, "I want to name this one Rainkit."

The newly named Rainkit gave a quiet squeal and shoved at her sister, a cream-colored kit. The creamy kit squeaked indignantly and shoved her back. Rainkit skidded away, blindly scooting back to her mother. The other kit pushed deeper into Fernlight's stomach, causing her to flinch. Nightshine chuckled. "She's strong, that one," meowed the black medicine cat, whiskers twitching in amusement.

"Yeah, she's a real fighter!" added Harepaw happily, obviously overjoyed by the new litter.

Fernlight bent down to nuzzle the damp fur of her kits. "Then I'll name the lighter-furred one Strongkit," she decided. Out of the corner of her green eyes she could see Snowfrost and Crowtail glance at each other doubtfully, but she didn't care. At the moment, she had eyes only for her kits, her lovely, beautiful daughters.

"That's a big name to live up to," Nightshade mewed, standing up to stretch her paws and get ready to leave, "We'll leave you now, if that's okay. I can hear Lionclaw complaining about burrs in his pelt all the way from here! Come, Harepaw. You can play with the kits later."

The light brown medicine cat apprentice scampered after his mentor with one last goodbye, leaving Fernlight to deal with Snowfrost and Crowtail.

"So," murmured the beautiful white she-cat, her icy blue eyes narrowing, "Strongkit. What a..._daring _name. So brash, so courageous! What did you have in mind, my dear Fernlight, when you named her? Certainly not _yourself_, I assume!"

Fernlight's blissful smile tightened. "Do you really think you're being a good role model for your own young, Snowfrost?" she asked quietly. "Taunting your fellow warrior about names, when it is clearly the actions of the cat that paints its reputation?"

Crowtail's slitted eyes gleamed. "Good one, Fernlight," she muttered, giving a hiss of amusement. The ebony queen flicked her tail, obviously approving the comment, as she stood up and strode from the nursery, calling back to Snowfrost as she disappeared from view, "You'd do well to listen to her, Snowfrost. She is wiser than we think."

Fernlight tucked her soft tail around her kits in one sweeping gesture, trying unsuccessfully to bury her laughter in her creamy fur as she gazed at Snowfrost. The snowy cat's eyes were wavering in icy blue rage, and her tail flicked restlessly, as if it were a jumpy flea on a cat's pelt. Not to mention her mouth was gaping, as if she were shocked that any warrior would dare do anything to offend her. _If this is what being a mother is like_, Fernlight thought, _Then I can't wait to get started!_

_-Chapter Three: The Deputy-_

"Fernlight," groaned Strongkit as her mother's tongue rasped over her cream-colored ears once more, "I don't need any more grooming! I can take care of myself."

Fernlight purred in amusement, eyes glittering with love for her daughters. Rainkit had already been groomed, and was sitting, sleek and proud, a little way's away from her kin. "Don't worry, Strongkit," she encouraged her grumpy littermate, "It's not so bad. And after you're done we can meet our father! Doesn't that make you happy?"

Fernlight gave another rumbly purr and gave one more lick to Strongkit's pelt. "Thank StarClan you haven't stepped foot out of the nursery yet!" she meowed playfully, "You've got moss scraps tangled in your fur from your ears to your paws, Strongkit. Who knows what you'd get into if you were allowed outside?"

Strongkit kept grumbling. "Will we get to meet the other kits, at least?" she whined, her kit-soft tail whipping around stumpily in frustration. "I'm sick of playing with Rainkit. She doesn't do it right."

With an indignant _mrrow!_, Rainkit bared her tiny teeth, and pounced on Strongkit, shocking their mother. They tumbled and tussled, laughing. Fernlight acted angry at first that they had mussed all her hard work on their pelts, but then she had to smile. "Come on, you two," she purred, herding her wrestling daughters out of the nursery, "I don't want to keep Stormclaw waiting-he's been waiting for so long already, just to see you. He's been so busy with organizing patrols..."

Strongkit shook the moss from her fur and meowed inquiringly, "Fernlight, do you think it's hard to be deputy?"

Fernlight sat on her haunches, thoughtfully. "I suppose. However, your father is strong and brave and loyal. He's the best deputy ThunderClan has ever known...or, at least, he _will _be. Once he gets things settled."

Rainkit's closed eyes twitched, mouth open to scent the air for her mother's comforting smell. "Mother," she mewed, stumbling over to Fernlight and snuggling her nose into her cream fur, "Why does Stormclaw want to see us when we can't even see him? I'd like to see what he looks like."

Fernlight gazed off into the distance, watching the treetops rustle in the breeze as dawn lit up the darkened sky. The day was going to be a warm one, she could tell. Her paws unleashed claws that tore at the soft dirt anxiously. Behind them, the nursery beckoned, and she longed to steal away with her kits to the soft, sweet roundness, the reassuring safety, with warmth and mothers' fur and milk, before Stormclaw could arrive... Would he like her-_their_-kits? Would he love them as much as she did? Fernlight knew a mothers' love for her offspring was different than a father's. For, while mothers birthed them, they loved them because they had borne them, because the pain was worth it and...and nonsense such as that. Or, at least, it would be nonsense until a female would experience the joy of holding her kit in her jaws, of licking it for the first time...

Rainkit nipped her mother's fur in annoyance, and Fernlight jumped. "What, dear?" she responded automatically, and Strongkit stumbled on her large paws over to them with an irritated sigh.

"She wants to know what Stormclaw looks like!" Strongkit mewed, "I bet he's big and fierce. Like I'll be, when I'm an apprentice!"

Fernlight's tail whisked around her paws as she asked, "Strongkit, where ever did you hear of apprentices? Surely the other kits haven't told you about it-you've never even opened your eyes to see them, never mind met them. Was it Snowfrost? Crowtail, or Gingertail?"

"None of them!" the kit sang, burying her blind face into her mother's furry chest, "I heard it from Sparrowfeather and Lionclaw when they were talking outside the nursery. What's a warrior?"

Fernlight purred. "You'll know in good time, Strongkit. Now see here-let me groom you at least a little bit...you both are absolutely filthy already, and I can just see the dawn patrol coming into camp. Oh, I've got to hurry...!"

Strongkit's closed eyes twitched, and her little, stumpy tail waved in the breeze as she skidded out of her mother's reach. "Stormclaw!" she called blindly, "Over here!"

Fernlight cringed as Stormclaw glanced over at their ragtag group. His misty blue eyes lit up, and without a word to his fellow warriors he bounded up to them, like a kit on the verge of his apprentice ceremony. "Well?" he meowed, glancing eagerly at his mate's face. "Where is he?"

Strongkit sniffed the air. Strange scents filled her nose-leafy plants and something yummy-smelling. Fresh-kill, maybe? She immediately connected the smell to her father, and she moved closer to him determinedly. "Who's _he_?" the kit demanded boldly, nose twitching.

Her face blared up at him blindly. Fernlight, thoroughly shocked by Stormclaw's words, couldn't help but note a bit satisfyingly that he looked utterly uncomfortable with his kit looking at him as if she could see when she really could not. "Well...well," he sputtered, obviously unnerved, "My son. Or _sons_, for that matter! Fernlight...wait a minute. Whose kits are you anyway?" Stormclaw squinted at Strongkit distastefully. "You aren't Snowfrost's kits, are you? That cat has far too much time on her paws. Remind me to put her on more hunting patrols."

Though the two kits hadn't even opened their eyes yet, it didn't take a warrior to know that Fernlight was furious. Her pelt pulsed with anger, and Rainkit leaned away from her, almost falling down in the process. "_These _are our kits, you mousebrained idiot!" she hissed, voice boiling. "We have she-cats, and I couldn't be more proud of them! Where in the world did you even get the idea that I was having a tom?!"

Stormclaw didn't speak for a few minutes-too shocked, Strongkit assumed, somewhat smugly. She liked being a she-cat! And this tom wasn't so special-if he favored toms over she-cats-and he clearly did-then she wouldn't care one whisker about him. Tail and head held high, Strongkit strutted toward her mother, stumbling a bit on a scrap of moss at the end but nevertheless making, in her opinion, quite an impressive exit.

Then Fernlight sent Rainkit and Strongkit away, back into the comforting scents of the nursery, where they could play with moss balls and tussle all they wanted. Apparently, Stormclaw and her needed to have a "talk". Strongkit wondered what that meant.

But immediately after entering the nursery and scenting sweet, warm milk on their tongues, those thoughts were abandoned by new, more disappointing ones: they never did get to meet the other kits.

_-Chapter Four: Meet Leopardkit-_

The day Rainkit and Strongkit opened their eyes was the day that newleaf was at its finest. Their mother's coat was a beautiful shade of cream, Snowfrost's coat was blinding white, Gingertail's pelt was a...well, blazing ginger, and Crowtail's fur rippled with blackness. Strongkit was in awe of it all! The crispness of their tones as their jaws moved, the wavery gleam of eye colors, flickering like the sun flickers behind clouds. Strongkit wanted to lap it all up, it was so delicious, seeing for the first time, the flap of eyelids as they closed and opened, revealing the world and extinguishing it in one simple blink!

"Mother, Mother!" squealed Rainkit, jumping up and down happily, "Mother! We've opened our eyes, and I can _see _you! I can see you all!"

Strongkit, not to be outdone by her littermate, jumped up and down even higher, colliding with her sister and ending up in a playful tussle on the ground, play-fighting gleefully. Fernlight, who was sleeping and had blearily noticed her kits' warmth was gone from her belly, opened one green eye lazily. "Good," she murmured with a yawn, blinking. "Wonderful, kits. But keep it down, will you? Crowtail won't be happy if you wake her up...and neither will the others."

Strongkit flopped away from Rainkit and tumbled into her mother's muzzle. "Ow!" yowled Fernlight, shaking her muzzle in anger. "Strongkit! You're lucky I didn't break a whisker. By StarClan, both of you will be the death of me someday if this keeps going on."

Across the nursery, Gingertail stirred. Her tail twitched and drew closer around Ferretkit, who was barely visible from behind his mother's fur. Strongkit stared at the other kit, eyes wishful. "Fernlight, I want to play with the other kits. Why won't the other queens let us? We're just as big as the others!" She bared her teeth to prove her point, paws digging into the moss.

Rainkit padded next to her littermate, gazing at their mother, voice pleading. "Please?" she mewed. "We won't do anything bad to them. Promise!"

Fernlight sighed gustily. The cream she-cat heaved herself up and stretched with another yawn. "It's a bit more complicated than that," she replied, sitting back on her haunches, "But maybe I can convince Snowfrost to let you play with them a bit, get to know them. Kits are meant to be around others-it's unnatural to keep them away from their own denmates."

"I agree."

Strongkit whirled around to see Crowtail, awake, her ears twitching. "In fact," the black queen drawled, a slight smile on her lips, "I'd like you to meet Leopardkit."

Crowtail uncurled her tail around a black, scruffy thing that Strongkit assumed was Leopardkit. The black thing shivered, then gave a yawn, showing sharp white teeth. Her eyes opened-green, like her mother's. The ebony kit stared at Rainkit and Strongkit curiously, blinking. "Crowtail, are those the other kits?" she mewed questioningly, eyes glimmering with curiosity.

Fernlight gave a raspy chuckle. Crowtail gave a quick lick to Leopardkit's ears, smiling despite herself. "Yes," the black queen meowed, "These are Fernlight's kits. Why don't you play outside for a little while, show them around?"

"But we've already been outside," Rainkit pointed out confusedly.

Crowtail's eyes shot to Fernlight's, wide with disapproval. "Already been outside, eh?" she muttered quietly, just loud enough for Fernlight to hear. Fernlight flushed and started grooming her paw to hide her shame.

"It was for Stormclaw," the cream-furred she-cat murmured softly, bashfully. "I was so excited...I wanted him to see them, as soon as possible, I...I knew he wouldn't have the time to visit...so I thought I could just let them out for a little bit, let us come to him."

Crowtail's eyes flashed with sympathy for a split second, before she shook her head in disgust. "Fernlight," she sighed heavily, "You're having kits for the first time. You're inexperienced and young. You want to show them the world, and lead them to happiness, wherever they go. You're carefree and giddy with the concept of having kits of your own. But you've _got _to_ understand _that there _are _rules. And most of it is just common sense. One of them is that you absolutely cannot let blind kits out of the nursery. They could catch a chill, they could stumble over a thorn, they could swallow deathberries or...or anything could happen! Do you understand?"

Fernlight's lower jaw jerked restlessly, as if she was longing to say something, but she just nodded instead, eyes trained on her now thoroughly groomed paw.

Strongkit leapt up to Leopardkit, with Rainkit close behind. The black kit was staring at them, in awe of their bravery. "You went _outside_?" she gasped, "Like, as in, outside the nursery?!"

"Yep," Strongkit answered proudly, puffing out her chest with as much bravado as a battle-scarred warrior after a great victory. "And we weren't even scared! Right, Rainkit?"

Rainkit nodded importantly, tail whisking back and forth with impatience. "Uh huh. Leopardkit, can you show us outside, now? I want to see the apprentices' den!"

So the three kits tumbled through the nursery entrance to the shining world outside, where, though the sun beamed glowing rays of warmth soaking into the Clans' territories, the darkest shivers of ice creeps into one leader's throat as she realizes that everything-and everyone-she ever knew, that _anybody _ever knew-was completely and utterly doomed.

_-Chapter Five: Antstar the Brave, Intelligent, All-Knowing, Talented, and StarClan Knows What Else- _

Antstar had figured that she was a good leader. She had a loyal deputy, Stormclaw, and loving yet ferocious warriors due to the mentors she chose for them when they were apprentices. She had made choices far beyond any other regular warrior's beliefs, _good _ones that would benefit ThunderClan and, when the need was great, the other Clans. She had warped her fate as the smallest cat in ThunderClan when she was young, from the victim of the Clan's teasing, to the noble leader her Clan knew and loved. She was fearless and strong, with a heart that was pure and...and...well, you get the message.

Nightshine hadn't delivered the earth-shattering news to her-she had figured it out herself (Antstar was just as intelligent as she was courageous). Antstar knew what to expect from StarClan from Nightshine's discussions with her about the signs they sent the black medicine cat. Sometimes Antstar would even know what StarClan's message was before Nightshine even got back from the Moonstone.

It was a gift, a talent that Antstar had only discovered recently. She had chalked it up to her sharp senses, at first. But slowly she realized that perhaps she was special, even more special than any other warrior in the Clan-in _all _the Clans!

Although the thought was grossly kit-like in her opinion, Antstar searched the stars every night, long after her respectable warriors had gone to sleep, hoping to catch a sign of StarClan's declaration of a prophecy focused supremely on her-_her_! A noble (yet horribly humble) warrior, sprung from the roots of wise ancestry (she was pretty sure her father's father's sister's son had been deputy at one time), questing through the wide world in search of the one thing that would save all the Clans from utmost destruction!

Antstar shivered with utter awe at such a magnificent destiny, although a bit of it might be from the evening's chilliness. Her tail waved with excitement as she gazed up at the shimmering Silverpelt embedded in the beautiful night sky. But then...something bright caught her eye, and her glistening pupils swiveled to it hypnotically. The small brown she-cat gasped. It was a star! But not just any star...it was moving. Moving as if it were...almost as if it were..._falling_.

_A falling star? _Antstar thought to herself with a quick shake of her head, _Ridiculous. Stars don't fall. They're fixed in the sky. _

But the uneasiness pitted in her stomach churned, frothed, and gurgled, until the next morning, where it had grown into paranoia at its purest. Antstar woke in her den (how had she gotten there? She didn't remember...), remembered the falling star, and began to hyperventilate. Breaths whooshing and whisking in and out of her mouth rapidly, chest puffing and flattening simultaneously.

"It has to mean something," the brown she-cat gasped dramatically, "Something big. A downfall of some kind...of the Clans!"

Just then, Stormclaw walked in leisurely, as if he did this sort of thing every day. "Antstar," he rumbled gruffly, "The dawn patrol has been sent out. Dawnfur, Duskyfoot, Sparrowfeather, and Graycloud."

"Graycloud?" Antstar forgot her worries for a moment and stared sternly into her deputy's gray eyes. "Graycloud is...getting older, Stormclaw. She should not be on so many patrols now. I'll talk to her about moving to the elders' den soon...I wouldn't want her to have to fight in a battle, should there be one, in the coming days."

Stormclaw nodded and stepped out of Antstar's den, calling over his shoulder as he exited, "Duly noted, Antstar. Do not fret-in terms of battle, our warriors are supreme."

But Antstar _did _fret, and eventually asked Graycloud herself if she would retire. The old gray she-cat took it hard at first, spluttering excuses like an apprentice late to a training session. Antstar had talked quietly with her for a little while, pointing out that her health was failing, the large cut she had gotten on her heel from a thorn was still hurting her after almost a moon, and that though she would no longer fight in battle, she would still be a heavily valued member of ThunderClan. Graycloud thought for a few moments and then reluctantly agreed. Antstar vowed to have her ceremony as soon as possible, so not to give any days for the old gray warrior to have a change of heart.

But later, in her den, when she was alone, Antstar worried even more, worried so much, far into the night, that her face grew gaunt, eyes fearful and nervous, like a rat's on the verge of being pounced on. Stormclaw worried, Nightshine worried-about her, that is. Mice and voles from the hunting patrols appeared at the entrance of her den daily. Nightshine talked to her about how she was feeling more often than usual. Stormclaw tried to take some of the weight of being leader off her narrow shoulders by talking her through big decisions with encouragement and compliments. Antstar took notice of none of it, just kept worrying and worrying.

Until something happened. Something Nightshine, and Stormclaw, and even Antstar herself never expected. Something that was whispered about behind thickets or in the cool dark of the night, when no cat was awake to pry, where no cat was awake to spy...

_-Chapter Six: The Queens Talk Not-So-Nicely- _

Strongkit and Rainkit, along with their new friend Leopardkit, played in the newleaf grasses, enjoying the deliciously hot rays soaking into their fur as they tumbled and batted at each other's pelts playfully. The sky was blue and cloudless, Trembletail and Whitefoot were arguing about what type of prey tasted better in their younger days while sunning themselves on a large, mossy rock that practically glowed with warmth near the elders' den. All was well and good, at least in the sunny territory of ThunderClan.

But in the nursery, a storm was brewing in the hearts of Snowfrost, Crowtail, Gingertail, and Fernlight, far from the happy cries of the tumbling kits.

"I don't want my little ones conversing with the likes of those!" Snowfrost hissed, fur bristling. "It's bad enough-"

"No!" Fernlight thundered back, arching her back menacingly, "I am downright _sick _of your complaints circling around 'it's bad enough'. Your life is not the only one that StarClan cares about, Snowfrost! Stop dwelling on the past and focus on the future! Yes, you might have thought you made a mistake. But do you think any of the cats involved thought it was a mistake? And what about Lionkit? Don't ruin _his _life along with yours. He has great potential. He could be a great warrior with obvious physical strength and mental strength as well."

Snowfrost paused at this, tossing and turning the thought in her mind, before gazing at Fernlight with eyes that glittered with frosty fire. "You don't know anything, Fernlight!" she snarled, teeth bared, "You don't understand the guilt I feel! How would you know? You have two perfectly normal she-cats! I have Lionkit-"

"Exactly!" piped up Crowtail crossly, as she sauntered over to the bickering she-cats. "You have _Lionkit_, a wonderful young cat who will soon become an apprentice and then a warrior. He will be looking at _you _for guidance and help now, a mentor later. You are not only his mother, Snowfoot, but his teacher, his guide. You have to understand that, for Lionkit's sake."

Snowfrost gave one last splutter of annoyance at Fernlight before, after a few moments, bowing her head in Crowtail's direction, quietly murmuring, "Thank you, Crowtail. Your advice is wise beyond your years."

The snowy white queen gave one last angry flick of her tail in Fernlight's direction before sauntering off to greet the hunting patrol that had just returned.

"Ugh!" Fernlight spat, shaking her head in anger, "That _cat_! I mean, how impertinent can you be? And what kind of mother neglects her own kit?!"

"Oh, you know Snowfrost," answered Gingertail from a quiet corner as she cuddled a napping Ferretkit, "Always looking for the best in cats-and by best, I mean by her standards. And how she can use them to her advantages."

The creamy she-cat shook her head in disbelief, yet again. "But she acts as if Strongkit and Rainkit don't even matter! She huddles her young away like my kits have blackcough, for StarClan's sake! Gingertail, you'd let my kits meet Ferretkit, wouldn't you?" Fernlight turned to the ginger-furred queen, who looked startled at the addressing of her.

"Well, er...well," Gingertail muttered slowly, clearing her throat loudly, "I...I...I, well, I think that perhaps...it would be best if...we waited a little while, maybe, perhaps...?"

Crowtail rolled her eyes silently, while Fernlight fumed, "Gingertail, are you saying that you actually _agree_-oh, wait. Of course you are. Because you're just her mousebrained little follower, right?"

Without further ado, the furious Fernlight fled from the fighting felines, snatched up Rainkit in her jaws, and flew into the nursery, with Strongkit still innocently batting her paws at Leopardkit.

"Here!" Fernlight bellowed dramatically in between a mouthful of soft grayish blue fur, "Rainkit, meet Ferretkit, your nursery-mate."

Rainkit squirmed out of her mother's trembling jaws and fell to the mossy ground, giggling. Ferretkit stirred in his sleep, while Gingertail gawked at the little blue kit rolling happily in the soft moss. "Whee!" Rainkit squealed, paws scrabbling for balance as she teetered dizzily, stumbling out of the nursery.

Fernlight gazed after her kit, muttering curses under her breath, embarrassed. Despite her feelings she jerked her head up defiantly, hoping to convey the message that she didn't care what they thought. Gingertail's glare was like the sharpest of claws, piercing the back of her head as the creamy-furred she-cat exited the nursery, trying to look as dignified as possible.

"This _will _happen, Gingertail," Fernlight muttered darkly as she stalked past the playing kits, the chattering apprentices as they did their daily tasks, the warriors horking down their fill of prey at the fresh-kill pile, and the elders grumbling something about stupid clouds blocking the sunlight as they leapt off the mossy rock. "Whether you-or Snowfrost-like it or not!"

_-Chapter Seven: At Last!-_

The day was dazzling. Sunlight shed a warm glow onto ThunderClan's camp territory, making the soft grass blades light up with bright green and the sky only a little cloudy, tiny wisps of white whisking across the sky like softened stars. But Strongkit and Rainkit didn't care, because they were going to have their apprentice ceremony that day, with Leopardpaw, now the proud apprentice of Stormclaw, encouragingly coaching them on what to do as Fernlight made them presentable.

"Okay," Leopardpaw meowed excitedly to an attentive Strongkit and Rainkit, "First, you got to be patient when Antstar talks to the crowd, and then you walk up, real slow and confidently-that way she'll know you're going to be a great warrior. Well, that's what Lionpaw told me, anyway."

Rainkit sighed frustratedly at the mention of the golden son of Snowfrost's name. "It's just not fair!" she whined, "_Leopardpaw_ can talk and make friends with Lionpaw. We couldn't before because Snowfrost didn't want us to talk to him. But we can now, right? Right, Mother? Because we're going to be made apprentices, now-she'd _have _to let us!"

Fernlight, now with a few noticeable wrinkles under her eyes, sighed gustily as she smoothed down a tuft of grayish blue fur on Rainkit's head. "My dear kits, it is up to Snowfrost whether you can meet Lionpaw," she muttered resignedly, "I'm so sorry, but I cannot change a made-up mind."

Strongkit, trying to mimic her mother's grooming skills on herself, yet, being decidedly unsuccessful, pouted and hunched her back, fur bristling. "But you _always _say that," she groaned angrily, "Lionpaw should be able to do whatever he wants to do without Snowfrost breathing down his neck. Right, Leopardpaw? He should grow a backbone and catch his own mice for once!"

Leopardpaw looked slightly uncomfortable. "Um..." she ventured, "I think he _does _catch his own mice, Strongkit. That was one time, and he was sick with whitecough anyway."

Strongkit rolled her eyes and growled under her breath, "Just proves how weak he is. What kind of cat gets whitecough in the middle of newleaf?"

Fernlight cast a stern gaze upon her cream-colored daughter. "Strongkit, don't be rude. Some cats are stronger in terms of health than others. That's just the way of the world, and it's not a thing you should judge a cat by."

Strongkit stuck out her bottom lip, then after a moment's thought sucked it back in. She was going to be an apprentice, after all-she had to stop being so kit-like.

Suddenly, a call burst from the Highrock: "All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

Leopardpaw gasped happily, then meowed with a slight air of importance, "That's what the leader does when she wants us for a discussion, or a ceremony. Come on, this is going to be _great_!" The ebony apprentice galloped out of the nursery giddily, leaving Rainkit and Strongkit to gaze at each other with nervousness. Fernlight clucked at them to hurry up as she gave their flanks a little shove, so they tumbled out of the nursery head-over-paws, giving anxious little giggles all the way.

The family of felines walked quickly over to the gathering crowd of cats milling around and whispering beneath the shade of the large Highrock, where a surprisingly small, slim brown she-cat stood, her expression unreadable. Close by stood Stormclaw, looking bold and important. Strongkit wondered if he was thinking of she and Rainkit.

Strongkit kept close to her mother, who was busily talking to Mistyflower and Ivypelt. They had just been made warriors a a little less than half a moon ago, and were clearly enjoying their new authority and responsibility, yet not enough for them to act pompous and smug. Ivypelt was animatedly talking to Fernlight about the strange noises she had heard during the two warriors' night vigil. Strongkit gazed in awe at the wriggling mass of cats around her, always moving and chattering. She had seen Clan meetings before, from the nursery, but she had never been actually in the thick of the throng, staring in wonder at the Highrock, in all its glory, with Antstar on top of it. It was simply incredible. Strongkit hoped she would never forget this moment.

"Silence!" barked Stormclaw suddenly, in a gruff voice, "Antstar is going to speak."

Antstar bowed her head briefly in Stormclaw's direction in a gesture of thanks, then gazed out into the mass of felines, each eye eager and expression excited. Strongkit wondered why she looked so...empty.

"My Clanmates," the brown she-cat said authoritively, "We have a ceremony to begin. Strongkit and Rainkit, please step forward. Let the Clan see you."

A rustling sounded as furry heads turned to seek out the two youngsters, who wanted nothing more at that moment than to curl up in a ball nestled in Fernlight's warm, soft belly. Strongkit tried to act confident in front of the warriors' stares, but her boldness dwindled away into nothing once she met each green, blue, hazel or brown eye. Beside her, Rainkit gulped nervously.

"Step forth," Antstar repeated impatiently. Stormclaw shot a disapproving glance at his kits. Right when her father's eyes beamed into hers, so full of disappointment, Strongkit lurched forward energetically, nudging Rainkit so that she followed suit.

Antstar seemed relieved. So did Stormclaw. Strongkit felt defiant-she would have moved soon enough! Maybe with a little coaxing, but still...

Strongkit glanced up to see Antstar and Stormclaw towering over her, like members of TigerClan. With eyes that glimmered with blankness, Antstar boomed, "From this day forward, until these kits have earned their warrior names, they will be called Strongpaw and Rainpaw, respectively."

The small brown she-cat jerked her gaze to the crowd of cats, who chanted automatically, "Strongpaw! Rainpaw! Strongpaw! Rainpaw! Strongpaw! Rainpaw!" and so on. The newly named Strongpaw straightened herself and lifted her chin proudly, searching the crowd for her mother-and there she was! Fernlight was gazing at her daughters, eyes shimmering with emotion, a large grin trembling at the edges of her lips.

Rainpaw whispered to her creamy-furred sister, "Look! There's Lionpaw and Ferretpaw. They look so big! How are we ever going to fit in a den with them?"

Strongpaw tilted her head slightly to see Leopardpaw, with two other apprentices, one of them slim and brown with a pointed snout that, she had to admit, looked a lot like a ferret's, and sparkling brown eyes. The other, strong and muscular, with a golden coat that seemed to wink at her in the sunlight. His eyes were a deep shade of amber that lit up as he spoke to the others, his voice deep and sincere.

Strongpaw gulped, suddenly feeling self conscious. "Um, let's meet them later," she mumbled, "I'm feeling a little hungry. Want to share a mouse with me?"

Rainpaw shook her head. "No, I think I'd like a nice juicy vole. They're the tastiest this time a year."

Strongpaw grinned and gave her sister a playful shove. "And since when have you eaten anything but little mice and milk? I'm sure you wouldn't be able to eat a big ol' _vole_."

Suddenly, before Rainpaw could answer, Antstar spoke again, voice ringing loud and clear. "Dawnfur," she rumbled, "You have proven your loyalty to the Clan many times over in the past few moons. I feel it is time for you to have your first apprentice."

Strongpaw turned, tingling with excitement, toward a beautiful reddish she-cat with glittering dark green eyes who had stepped forward. Rainpaw gasped. "She's so pretty!" she exclaimed quietly, just loud enough for Strongpaw to hear. "I hope she's my mentor."

"Dawnfur," Antstar continued, "You will be a mentor to Strongpaw. Teach her well. And Burrpelt, you will be a mentor to Rainpaw. I trust you both to teach these new apprentices in the ways of the warrior code with as much enthusiasm as your own mentors did for you."

At this, in the crowd, Fernlight couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Dawnfur and Burrpelt's mentors, two brothers named Shrewshine and Hareleap, were the most energetic warriors she had ever met, always jumping around and saying things way too fast. Saying they had enthusiasm was definitely an understatement.

The two young apprentices touched noses with their mentors. Burrpelt was grinning madly, while Dawnfur looked like she was ready to squeal like a kit, whether in excitement or horror Strongpaw didn't know.

But she _did _know that this, certainly, was going to be a long, winding road to becoming a warrior.

That much was clear.

_-Chapter Eight: Lionpaw-_

Strongpaw's legs ached as she stumbled into the apprentices' den and crumpled into her nest, right next to Rainpaw's, which was empty. It had been a long day of the usual duties: replacing the elders' bedding, trying _again _to repair the warriors' den (one wall had caved in after a newleaf rainstorm, like it always did), fixing the elders' den's roof _again_ (it had become leaky after a newleaf rainstorm, like it _always _did), and finally, during a short break, had eaten a small piece of mouse with the help of Leopardpaw, who had eaten the rest of it. "The tail's my favorite part," she had chattered happily, "Because you get to do _this_."

With an exaggerated slurp, Leopardpaw grabbed the mouse tail in her jaws and sucked it up, until the last fleshy tip of the tail had disappeared down her gullet. The black apprentice waited for her friend to comment, but Strongpaw was silent.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Leopardpaw asked, brow furrowed. "You always laugh at my tail-slurps."

Strongpaw didn't answer.

"What, cat got your tongue?" Leopardpaw joked, licking the last scent of mouse from her lips. Strongpaw gave a long, gusty sigh.

"No," she groaned mournfully, "I'm just...I just...I just want to actually _meet _Lionpaw. He's said hi and stuff, but...I don't know...we've never had an actual _conversation_."

Leopardpaw rolled her green eyes, smirking. "Oh, Strongpaw," she giggled, "I never thought _you'd _be the one to go tom-crazy. You're always so distant and independent! Just watch that you don't turn into Snowfrost."

Strongpaw, ignoring her friend's last comment, repeated thoughtfully, "Distant? Am I _really_?"

Leopardpaw nodded. "Y'know, Ivypelt's cooing over Lionclaw. She told me that the secret to toms is to appeal to them, and what they like and things."

Strongpaw wrinkled her nose. "_Lionclaw_?!" she asked incredulously, "But...he's so..._old_. Like, my mother's sister's _mentor _old."

Leopardpaw shrugged. "There's not that many toms in ThunderClan," she mewed simply, as if that explained everything.

And so Strongpaw managed to buck up the courage to go talk to Lionpaw, who was, as always, with Ferretpaw. Rainpaw was off with Burrpelt battle training, unfortunately, but at the same time Strongpaw was sort of glad. She didn't want her sister to tease her, just because she was too shy to talk to a tom.

As she walked over, Ferretpaw called out, "Hey, look who it is! Strongpaw, what happened to Rainpaw? Is she _still _training? If she keeps working at this rate, she'll be the toughest apprentice in ThunderClan!"

Strongpaw smiled. "Exactly," she replied, "She wants to put you toms in your places!"

Ferretpaw chuckled. "Like that'll ever happen!" he meowed challengingly, tail waving lazily in the breeze.

Strongpaw just shook her head in a "tsk-tsk" fashion and walked a little closer, so she could actually strike up a real conversation between her and Lionpaw. The golden apprentice seemed to be talking about mentors.

"Yeah, Lionclaw is a great mentor," Lionpaw bragged, "He's really good at battle training. Says I still need more practice on the hunters' crouch. But I swear to StarClan I was _this _close to catching that stupid shrew. What has Dawnfur taught you?"

Strongpaw started. He was talking to her, already?! Well, she had to answer, didn't she? "Um..." she mumbled, "I...I've been doing a lot of chores lately. Dawnfur _did _teach me how to gather moss, though. Y'know, for the elders...?"

Ferretpaw sniggered quietly. Lionpaw shot him an angry look. "Aw well," he told her comfortingly, "Not every cat can start training right away. It all depends on your mentor, I guess. Right?"

"Yeah," Strongpaw said, perking up. "Dawnfur always seems to have better things to do."

Ferretpaw's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Speaking of better things to do," he meowed, "Did you hear? Sparrowfeather's moving into the nursery. She's carrying Lionclaw's kits!"

"What?!" yelped Strongpaw, suddenly remembering: Ivypelt, Leopardpaw's older sister, was crushing on the lion-like warrior. How would she feel if she knew Lionclaw had taken Sparrowfeather as his mate?

The two toms glanced at her, puzzled. "What do you mean, 'what'?" asked Ferretpaw confusedly.

Strongpaw shifted on her paws, embarrassed. "I mean...it's just, a friend of mine...er...um...it's nothing. So, um, what do you think of being an apprentice? It's, er, really amazing...for me, anyway. But, um, what about you?"

Ferretpaw and Lionpaw exchanged glances. "Um," mewed Lionpaw, ears flicking, "We've been apprentices for a moon already...but I'd say it's pretty nice having others in the den with us. Now I don't have to sleep next to Leopardpaw-she kicks."

Strongpaw giggled, eyes gleaming. "Rainpaw's pretty fickle, though," she chuckled, "When we were in the nursery she kept squirming around at night like she had a thorn in her paw or something. I still have bruises."

Suddenly, the three apprentices could hear someone calling-it was Duskyfoot, Ferretpaw's mentor. "Oops," the brown tom murmured sheepishly, cringing, "I forgot. I told Duskyfoot I'd do my share on the warriors' den...and, of course, I just happen to get caught up in chit-chat. Oh well. See you later, Lionpaw. Bye, Strongpaw."

Ferretpaw bounded away to a stern-looking Duskyfoot. Strongpaw and Lionpaw watched him go, and then turned to face each other. "Uh..." Lionpaw began quietly, "Um...look, Strongpaw, I got to go. Hunting patrol. I promised Icefern and Quillfur."

"Well...well," Strongpaw sputtered, not wanting to lose this moment, "I...maybe I could come with you."

Lionpaw's mouth twisted up in a slightly condescending smile that Strongpaw wasn't sure she liked. "Didn't you say you only know how to collect moss? I bet the queens would like it if you cleaned out their bedding."

Feeling frustrated, the creamy-furred apprentice found herself whining. "But...the only queen in the nursery is Sparrowfeather," she meowed. "Right?"

Lionpaw shifted on his paws uncomfortably. His amber eyes flicked to every other object but her. "Um. Right. But still, I got to go. Bye. I'll see you in the den, okay?"

Without another word, the golden tom scrambled away, not even turning to look back at her like Strongpaw had hoped. Then she shook her head, furious at herself. A true warrior didn't moon over any cat! Strongpaw tried to clear her mind of any thoughts of the lion-like apprentice and stalked angrily away, where Leopardpaw was waiting.

In the present, Strongpaw sighed into the soft moss lining her nest, eyelids sagging. But she couldn't rest yet. She wanted to wait until Rainpaw arrived back from a border patrol with her mentor, Burrpelt. Her sister had learned much more than she had, and was constantly talking about how incredibly funny Burrpelt was and how he had taught her how to stalk prey and do a hunters' crouch and was going to teach her battle moves later and blah, blah, blah. Strongpaw was sick of it. What happened to Rainpaw wanting _Dawnfur _as a mentor, anyway?

Despite her tries, Strongpaw fell fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the fact that, just a couple moons from then, a secret would be revealed that would change ThunderClan-and a certain warrior-forever.

_-Chapter Nine: In the Eyes of a Medicine Cat Apprentice-_

Harepaw was excited. He was going to go to the Gathering that evening, and couldn't wait to see the other Clans' medicine cat apprentices again. Even though he had always been welcome into the warrior apprentices' conversations, he had been longing to talk herbs with someone other than Nightshine, some cat his own age. He started humming cheerfully as he gathered some dock to put on Burrpelt's scratches. The tangled-furred warrior had gotten them when he had stepped on a thorn while practicing with Rainpaw. Nightshine would normally be with him, but she had gone to collect some fennel for Graycloud's aching hips. The poor elder had been complaining for days.

The tang of the dock leaves left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, so after he was finished sorting Harepaw escaped to the stream for a drink. The sun felt nice on his fur, but was quickly being overtaken by a dusk breeze that ruffled his neck fur and made him shiver. The light brown apprentice dipped his head near the flowing water, tongue flicking out to catch a few glistening droplets to quench his thirst. Just as he did, another brisk wind flew hazardly into his face. Harepaw shook his head, coughing, and lifted his head curiously. Had it always been this windy near the stream?

Suddenly, Harepaw heard someone call his name. "Harepaw! Harepaw, come here! We're departing for the Gathering," Nightshine bellowed, and Harepaw turned around to see a mass of pelts, one of them the ebony fur he knew to be Nightshine. She was gazing at him sternly. Embarrassed, the medicine cat apprentice scrambled to join the other cats as they marched toward the Gathering, with Antstar in the lead.

The Fourtrees had always looked glorious to Harepaw. The trees surrounding the land always looked mystical and wise, with their sturdy, rough trunks and shimmery leaves that blazed green in greenleaf. And the Clan leaders always looked so wise and important from their perch far above the other warriors and medicine cats! Harepaw marveled at this as they arrived, and he could see that WindClan's leader, a lithe, graceful tortoiseshell named Spiderstar, was already waiting along with her Clan.

Harepaw glanced around and was surprised to see ShadowClan there. Before RiverClan! The concept was jokingly thought to be impossible-RiverClan's leader, a thick, slightly chubby old tom named Rosestar, made sure that his Clan was always on time, saying that just because RiverClan had the oldest leader did not mean that it was weaker than the other Clans, although Harepaw never really got how being on time had to do with any of that.

He could hear ThunderClan warriors murmuring in shock at this, and Harepaw wondered if something was wrong. Maybe the other apprentices would know. After asking Nightshine if he could go talk to the other medicine cat apprentices, he bounded off, searching through the mass of long-legged WindClan warriors, hoping to see Olivepaw, a snowy-white medicine cat with gray eyes and unusually long, graceful legs. But the more he pushed past pelts and brushed past fur, the more puzzling the situation became-he couldn't find Olivepaw, Foxpaw (ShadowClan's medicine cat apprentice), Reedpaw hadn't arrived yet thanks to RiverClan's tardiness...what was he going to do? Just as the thought pierced through his head Harepaw bumped into Duskbreeze...RiverClan's deputy!

With a gasp, Harepaw backed away as the gray tom snapped, "Watch it!" and led his Clan into the Gathering grounds. The confusing thing was that Rosestar was nowhere in sight. One by one, the light brown apprentice's vision swam with multicolored pelts and legs and ears as they rushed past him, until a slightly familiar voice hissed in his ear, "Come with me. I have something to discuss with the others."

After a few blank seconds, Harepaw recognized Reedpaw's voice and complied, racing after the thick auburn pelt that shimmered in the sun. _Typical RiverClan,_ he couldn't help but think a little disgustedly as he ran, _Perfectly preened as always! _

When the RiverClan medicine cat apprentice slid to a sudden stop in a shady spot that wasn't used much by the Gathering-goers, Harepaw blinked in surprise. Olivepaw and Foxpaw were already there, looking at the new arrivals expectantly.

"Um," ventured Harepaw sheepishly, "Sorry we're late?"

Foxpaw shook his head, muttering words to himself that Harepaw hoped weren't insults, but knowing Foxpaw they probably were. Olivepaw just smiled at the two, but Harepaw could see the wrinkles sagging under her dull eyes. He wondered what happened, but before he could ask she already answered. "Sickness is spreading," she explained with a weary sigh, "Graylily thinks it's an early whitecough breakout."

"But it's only greenleaf!" Reedpaw gasped, shocked. His auburn fur bristled with fear, and Harepaw knew what he was thinking, for he was thinking the same thing: _It could spread to the other Clans._

"We've been working so hard," Olivepaw continued, her eyes emotionless and voice placid, but the way she was kneading her paws in the crumbly dirt betrayed her anxiety. "And we're running out of herbs."

"Running out of herbs?" Reedpaw and Harepaw echoed uncomfortably. They glanced at each other unsurely.

"Um...if you don't mind me asking, Olivepaw..." meowed Harepaw cautiously, "Just what are you running out of, exactly...?"

Olivepaw sighed again and hesitated, casting a suspicious glare at all the others. "Promise to StarClan not to tell," she hissed. "Swear on your life."

All three nodded and said obediently, "Swear to StarClan."

Olivepaw nodded, satisfied, and recited, "Borage leaves, feverfew, juniper berries, and...and catmint."

Stunned silence. Catmint was a rare but useful herb, and, though the medicine cats followed a different code than the warriors did, donating some to another Clan without an extremely good reason could cause severe consequences.

"We have lavender and honey in WindClan," Olivepaw added hastily, as if that would lessen the cost of the decision the other medicine cat apprentices would have to make, "It's just...we've never seen a sickness like this before. Not in WindClan, anyway. It's more like greencough than whitecough, really. Cats' throats are sore and some of the kits are having trouble breathing. It's terrible, hearing their little mouths gasp for breath. And Redsnout's face has gotten swollen-the skin, I mean. It's like...bumps, sort of."

"Bumps?" echoed Foxpaw stupidly, blinking.

Olivenose nodded gravely, and lowered her voice. "Tigerstripe was coughing blood this morning," she uttered quietly, "Graylily told me she gave her some poppy seed, but...but...I don't think that's what she really gave her."

The WindClan medicine cat apprentice's voice trembled with emotion as she whispered fearfully, "I think she somehow squeezed deathberry juice into the poppy seed and made a mixture of it, then gave it to Tigerstripe. She was delusional and vomiting blood, and the air around her was thick with scents of suffering. It was her only hope. It would take a miracle to cure her, is what Graylily said. B-but...but when we get back, what if I have to explain to the others what happened? What if...!" Here the little white medicine cat apprentice gave a sob, breaking down in grief. Foxpaw stared awkwardly at his paws. Reedpaw opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again after a few seconds. Harepaw just stood stock-still, absorbing the horrific information.

Just then, the idle chatter of the crowd of Clan cats of all sorts ceased, replaced by the demanding tones of the Clan leaders. With a mumbled "sorry for your loss", the three toms retreated to where their seperate Clans stood. After a few moments, Olivepaw followed suit, head down and tail dragging.

"Attention!" boomed the ShadowClan leader, a thick-furred dark gray tom named Nettlestar, commandingly. "ShadowClan will go first. Prey is getting scarcer-"

"Wait a bone-picking minute!" interrupted Duskbreeze harshly, "I have news on Rosestar-imperative news. If anything, I should go first in honor of a leader who is unfortunately absent on this fine evening."

The gray tom looked sideways at the leaders from his slightly lower perch on a nearby rock. "Does everyone agree?" he asked politely, orange eyes glittering.

Spiderstar and Antstar glanced at each other questioningly, then swung their vision back to the RiverClan deputy. "We agree," Spiderstar answered sensibly. "Rosestar is a good cat. It would be a gross offense not to let his deputy speak of why he is not here when I am sure he would do the same for us."

Although Nettlestar didn't say a word, Harepaw could see his ebony tail lashing back and forth vehemently. He was obviously furious.

Duskbreeze shifted his position on his rock and cleared his throat. "I regret to inform you all of this," he began grimly, "But Rosestar is ill."

A shocked silence followed his dire words. Not because of the fact that the RiverClan leader was sick, but of the fact that Duskbreeze had the gall to speak it in front of all the Clans. _Doesn't that mousebrained tom know that any of the Clans could launch an easy attack after the Gathering as long as Rosestar is sick?! _thought Harepaw, aghast. Beside him, Nightshine was frowning. Cats of all Clans started murmuring in surprise to other warriors-even RiverClan started giving shocked looks to one another. _So they must not have known that Duskbreeze would say that. He must have kept it as a nasty little surprise, _Harepaw thought, a little angrily. Though he was no fan of RiverClan, they still had their rights in terms of privacy. _They might've not even known that Rosestar was sick, for StarClan's sake!_

"So," continued Duskbreeze, "I will be taking over as his replacement in all matters concerning RiverClan in leadership, until he recovers. We have our medicine cat, Bluestorm, and his apprentice, Reedpaw, working steadily to cure him, so that RiverClan will be stronger than ever."

The gray deputy dipped his head briefly to the others and stepped back, a little. He was finished with his report. Nightshine exchanged confused glances with Fernlight, who was also chosen to go to the Gathering. He hadn't even told the Clans about how the prey was running, or how the scent markers were holding up-he had barely told them anything.

Nettlestar stepped forward and began to speak immediately. "The prey is getting scarcer in ShadowClan territory," he began, "We think it is because of a sickness that is making the prey sour, so that the fresh-kill is already dead before we have to catch them. Two of our warriors were foolish enough to think this was easy prey and snarf it down like starving kits...and they are now being punished accordingly after recovering from a sickness that plagued their bodies soon after eating. Hawkclaw and Rednose, please come forward."

Harepaw watched curiously along with the other Clans as two sniffling tomcats-a skinny tabby with amber eyes and a thick-furred cat with an unusually reddish nose-scurried quickly in front of the leaders' rock, eyes on the ground. Nettlestar glared at the two and hissed, "Look up, warriors. See what the rest of the Clans make of your folly."

Sulkily, the two lifted their heads, and Harepaw gasped. "My, my," murmured Fernlight in shock.

The two warriors had pus oozing from their eyes, and their mouths were crusted over with dried mucus. Their fur was dull and tangled, and they looked half-dead on their paws.

Upon seeing them, Antstar's gray-blue eyes widened, and the firm line of a muzzle curved into a frown. "Nettlestar," she hissed, low enough so the cats below couldn't hear, "These warriors look sick enough to be in the medicine cat's den. What sense have you to bring them to a Gathering, for StarClan's sake?!"

Nettlestar didn't answer, just flicked his tail impudently in her direction. Antstar's eyes narrowed in anger, but didn't make a move to stop the mistake that was unfurling in front of her own two eyes. Nettlestar was in such a prickly mood if she sent the two sickly warriors back to their territory he could count her actions as the first of war.

Harepaw shifted nervously on his paws. Rednose and Hawkclaw's cloudy gaze drifted vaguely into the distance, as if they weren't aware of how many cats were staring at them in disgust. The only movement they made was when they twitched suddenly, or blinked groggily, or smacked their lips open and closed with wet little _smacks_. Nightshine grimaced, and whispered to the ThunderClan medicine cat apprentice grimly, "How do you think we'd deal with that if it struck ThunderClan?"

Harepaw shivered as the two ShadowClan cats wandered blindly back to their spots with a bark from Nettlestar. He didn't know.

_-Chapter Ten: First Hunting Patrol!-_

"Dawnfur, Dawnfur!"

Strongpaw was panting hard as she raced up to her mentor, who was taking a lazy bite of her water vole as she chatted with Mistyflower in the shade of the warriors' den. The reddish warrior didn't even flicker an eyelid at Strongpaw's words, something that the cream-furred apprentice found frustrating, but not surprising. Dawnfur was never really interested in her apprentice, anyway. But Strongpaw kept calling to her mentor-this was important.

"What?" Dawnfur sneered with a glare, flicking her tail angrily in Strongpaw's direction. "Ticking off the elders wasn't enough for you?"

Strongpaw's mind went blank, and she stopped jiggling in anticipation for a moment to ponder. Finally, thoroughly stumped, she looked confusedly at her mentor. "Um...what's 'ticking off'?"

Dawnfur rolled her bright green eyes snobbishly. Mistyflower gave a miffed look to her friend and said, "Hey, Dawnfur-lay off her, okay? She's a new apprentice. Oh, and 'ticking off' just means getting the ticks off of things-like those cranky elders." The gray she-cat giggled.

Dawnfur gave Mistyflower a dirty look and stood up. "Watch it," she spat, "One of those 'cranky elders' is my friend. A far better one than you, might I add!"

The reddish warrior stomped away, bushy tail lashing. Mistyflower blinked blankly. "Wait, what?"

Strongpaw shook her head with a gusty sigh. "It's okay. She's always like that-making up silly phrases and getting mad at cats for no good reason."

Mistyflower shook her head, mystified. "Okay. Whatever. She can deal with her problems without me tagging along with her. See you, Strongpaw."

The gray warrior padded away in an indignant huff, leaving Strongpaw to sigh in frustration. Couldn't Dawnfur remember? They were going to go on their first hunting patrol today-in the next few seconds, in fact, Strongpaw realized, feeling guilty as the hunting patrol made up of Blossompelt, Ferretpaw, and Duskyfoot whisked their tails around irritably, over near the edge of camp. "Come on, Strongpaw!" yowled Ferretpaw, giving a little jump of excitement, "Hurry up! The mice won't hunt themselves, you know."

Strongpaw growled under her breath, "I know, I know,", and ran over to Dawnfur, who had stomped over to the elders' den and was talking to a tired-looking Graycloud.

"Um-" Strongpaw began timidly, but was immediately interrupted by a screeching Ferretpaw.

"Just leave her!" he yelled, "She'll join another later. It'll be dusk by the time you have her ready!"

The creamy-furred apprentice glanced hesitatingly at her chatting mentor, then bounded away, despite her worry excitement sparking her steps. She was going on her first hunting patrol!

As the four cats trotted away, Strongpaw couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Her mentor wasn't going to be there with her. Neither was her sister, Rainpaw-she was collecting moss for the nursery for the first time, bitterly enough. Her mother wasn't, either. And forget about Stormclaw-he probably wouldn't have even noticed she was there if he did anyway.

Shaking her head of the sadness that was sopping up all her excitement, Strongpaw tried to catch up with the others, panting. _We haven't even gotten into the forest yet! _she thought, disgusted with her lacking athletic ability as she hopped over a stone lodged into the soil. Far ahead she could see the other warriors (and one apprentice) discussing something-something important, she thought.

As she scrambled, puffing, beside Blossompelt, she could just catch the last snatch of a sentence from Duskyfoot. "...back here after. Okay, good luck everyone. Now-go!"

Immediately, Ferretpaw raced away into the leafy fronds of a nearby shrub, out of sight. Duskyfoot muttered something to herself that Strongpaw didn't quite catch and bounded past a nearby birch tree, disappearing into the rustling brush. Blossompelt stared searchingly into the bushes for a few moments, nostrils twitching. Finally, she gave up, eyes glittering with frustration. Then the white she-cat glanced at Strongpaw suddenly.

Strongpaw flinched, backing away shyly. She didn't know Blossompelt that well, or much about her, besides the fact that she was her mother's mentor and the sister of Sparrowfeather. But when she gazed into Blossompelt's eyes she saw nothing but kindness. "First hunting patrol, huh?" she asked sympathetically. "I noticed. Even if you don't have an apprentice anymore, you never really stop observing other apprentices' process into warriorhood." She glanced ruefully at the bush where Duskyfoot had disappeared into. "I was never good at hunting. And this is Duskyfoot's first time leading a patrol. And look at you! An apprentice without a mentor on her first hunting patrol-what kind of sorry story sap is that? Huh? Do you even know the hunters' crouch? Huh? Do you?"

Strongpaw shook her head, ashamed, and angry at Dawnfur for being so careless about her training. Why couldn't Dawnfur just be responsible, for once, and take care of her apprentice?

Blossompelt shuffled her paws thoughtfully, lips pursed. "Well, we're wastin' time here, so I better teach you how to hunt before you make a mess of yourself trying to. For the hunters' crouch, you crouch down all sneaky-like, with your rump in the air. Yeah, like that. Then you put your rump down-keep the crouch, keep the crouch-and shift your front paws in a tense way, so you're ready to pounce-don't slip! Good."

And so Blossompelt taught Strongpaw how to do the hunters' crouch. It was a slow lesson, no doubt, but a real lesson nonetheless, which the cream-colored apprentice appreciated.

Just as the other cats padded happily back into the clearing, Strongpaw had managed a wobbly pounce, and had caught a pawful of...small, crackly leaves. Puzzled, she looked up, and was startled to see bright orange leaves waving in the chilly breeze. "Leaf-fall," breathed Ferretpaw, and Strongpaw jumped in surprise. She hadn't known he was so close. The lean brown apprentice looked at her strangely. "What?" he asked, confused. "It's _leaf-fall_. You know, when the leaves start changing colors and falling off trees?"

Strongpaw's face burned with embarrassment. "Um, yes...I knew that," she mewed quickly. "You just scared me."

Ferretpaw smirked cheekily. "Scared of a little _competition_, you mean?"

Strongpaw blinked. "What?"

"Look." Ferretpaw jerked his head sideways briefly, indicating to a small pile made up of three mice, one shrew, and even a big fat squirrel. "_I _caught all that! What did _you_ catch?"

His eyes blared competitively into hers. Strongpaw blinked rapidly, daunted by his boldness. "Umm..." she stammered nervously, "I caught, well, um...I didn't actually catch anything."

Ferretpaw was quiet for a few seconds before hooting, "Didn't _catch _anything?! Ha! That's a good joke, Strongpaw-didn't think you had it in you. But seriously, what'd you catch?"

Strongpaw hesitated, but was thankfully interrupted by an impatient Duskyfoot. "Come on," Fernlight's sister called, "The Clan will be waiting."

The hunting patrol made their way home, each chattering through a mouthful of fresh-kill, except for Strongpaw, who sheepishly told the others about her quick lesson on the hunters' crouch. Although Duskyfoot seemed a little disappointed, she congratulated her anyway. Ferretpaw just looked smug.

And when she returned to the apprentices' den, Rainpaw was waiting for her. The usually chipper she-cat's beautiful blue-gray eyes had turned dull and somber. Her chin was trembling. "Strongpaw," she called in a soft whisper, "I...I need to tell you something. Something bad."

Immediately, horrible thoughts flitted through Strongpaw's mind. Death. Sickness. Had something happened to Fernlight? Rainpaw had broken her paw? Maybe Antstar was ill? Had she heard of Strongpaw's failure at catching prey?!

_-Chapter Eleven: Dawnfur and Burrpelt-_

"Okay. Try it this way," Burrpelt suggested encouragingly to Rainpaw as he dodged a swipe of her paws, then leapt over his apprentice swiftly, landing promptly on the ground behind her. Rainpaw whirled around, spitting and baring her teeth in feigned rage.

Beside Strongpaw, Dawnfur flicked the tip of her tail and sighed loudly, as if bored. "Why do we have to be here, Burrpelt?" she whined, "I have stuff to do."

Burrpelt quickly glanced over his shoulder, but was too slow to turn it back, and Rainpaw began play-snarling and batting at his chest with sheathed paws as he distractedly yelled back, "What stuff? Like eating all the fresh-kill in the pile and chatting with your buddies? Antstar told me to bring you and Strongpaw with me and Rainpaw-I'm just following orders, Dawnfur."

Dawnfur huffed and lay down, putting her head in between her paws sulkily. Strongpaw watched her sister grunt with effort as she dodged an attack from Burrpelt and delivered a hard cuff to his left leg. Strongpaw winced, green eyes flashing emerald as they widened. If Rainpaw'd had her claws unsheathed, Burrpelt's leg would be fresh-kill!

Then Rainpaw collapsed on the dirt limply. "Too...tired," she gasped puffingly, "Can...can we stop now, Burrpelt?"

The cream tabby looked up at the overcast sky for a few seconds, then back at his apprentice. "Very well," he finally mewed. "You did amazing, Rainpaw. I didn't expect you to pick up the routine so fast at the first go! I'm impressed-it must be difficult practicing moves so close to your opponent after all the times doing it farther away."

Rainpaw perked up, grinning as she picked herself off the dirt. "Thanks. It wasn't too bad-just a little odd. I mean, do you think the Clans'll notice if I stay closer to them than the other cats when I'm fighting? They might think I'm hiding something, or...or that, I dunno, just maybe...they might think that I-"

"Right," cut in Dawnfur crisply, "They might think you're...let's say _closer _to a particular warrior from another Clan-"

"Dawnfur, quit it," ordered Burrpelt sharply. Strongpaw stared at her sister. The blue-gray apprentice was staring at her paws, heat tinging her muzzle. Was she blushing?

Dawnfur snorted wordlessly, rolling her eyes again. Burrpelt glared at her, then switched his now-friendly gaze to Strongpaw. His eyes shone with kindness. "Want to try practicing a little battle moves with ol' Burrpelt?" he challenged jokingly.

Strongpaw nodded, pulling herself to her paws while Dawnfur looked unnoticingly on. Rainpaw mouthed a silent 'good for you!' from her sprawled out state next to Strongpaw's mentor. Strongpaw gave a small, brief smile in her direction, then focused solely on her practice-opponent. Burrpelt was grinning openly, as if not taking her seriously, not expecting her to win. Well, she'd show him!

With a fearsome battle yowl, Strongpaw lunged at him, soft paws first. They collided with Burrpelt's nose, and he gave a small, muffled cry as he tumbled to the dirt, Strongpaw spinning wildly after him until he shouted in a deep, rumbly growl, "Stop! Strongpaw, I said _stop_!"

The cream-colored apprentice stopped dead in her tracks, and realized suddenly that her fur was standing on end, from her tail to her neck. Embarrassed, she let her fur fall to its normal state and sat back, licking one paw coolly as if to recover from her humiliation with the fur. But on the inside, she was as scared as a mouse squirming in the paws of a playful kit (and kits, not yet knowing the value of life, had an uncomfortably savage desire to "play with their food" in a particularly horrific manner). Burrpelt was looking at her, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Clumsy," he spat, swishing his tangled tail, "_Despicably _clumsy. So clumsy, in fact, it would not even be permitted to be a battle move." Strongpaw stopped grooming and, struck with terror at his accusations, shrank back.

Burrpelt's eyes softened, and his grim frown straightened slowly. "I'm sorry, Strongpaw," he said with a sigh, "It's just...maybe I shouldn't have been so hard on you, considering who your mentor is."

Dawnfur's ears flicked indignantly. "Hey," she called lazily, "What'd I do?"

Burrpelt's lips twisted into another deep frown. "Have you even been teaching her battle moves, Dawnfur?"

"What? Should I've been?" she replied carelessly with a smirk.

Rainpaw gasped. Strongpaw wanted to sink into the ground-this was humiliating! Burrpelt glanced back at her, then stalked past the red-furred warrior under the shade, calling back over his shoulder angrily, "I'll talk to Antstar about this, Strongpaw. And _you_, Dawnfur-well, you've got a _lot _to think about."

_-Chapter Twelve: Voices and Secrets and Leaves-_

Antstar had heard the voice whispering in her ear that night. It was quiet and neutral, with a slight rusty edge to it. Its words were raspy yet clear.

_"We need herbs, leader of ThunderClan." _

And that was it. She couldn't smell the cat's scent, and it was too dark to detect who it was. But it was almost certain that the feline was from another Clan.

ShadowClan? Antstar, alone in her den on the cloudy night, pondered this. They _did _need herbs, didn't they! Two of their warriors were sick! Of course!

Antstar shook off the sleepy grogginess plagueing her body and began to leapt excitedly out of her den-only to almost slip as her left hind paw stepped onto a waxy, large leaf that slid away, leaving the little brown she-cat stumbling to get her balance. When she finally righted herself, Antstar gazed peculiarly at the leaf...or was it a petal? As she inspected it, Antstar couldn't but take a cautious sniff by parting her lips, scent glands inhaling...and inhaling more. Her eyes widened, mouth going slack. It looked...it _smelled_..._delicious_! She _had _to get a taste, she just-

Antstar shook her head suddenly, mentally shaken. What had just gone through her head? Some sort of immense desire to, to _eat _the thing in front of her-but she didn't even know what it _was_, for StarClan's sake! What had happened to her common sense? Antstar stared hard at the leafy thing suspiciously, then swiftly scooped it up with her claws poking through it almost maliciously. The brown ThunderClan leader eyed it in fury. She had to destroy this terrible plant that had deprived her of any rational thought!

Disgusted with herself, Antstar desposited the horrible leaf outside her den, a flurry of morbid thoughts flying wildly around in her brain. Could this be the end? The end of the Clans? The beginning of StarClan's message of the stars that foretold such a terrible, deathly doom?

On that very same night, a snowy white she-cat swiftly padded out of the warriors' den, mouth open to detect any smells. When she was sure nobody was around, she snapped her lips closed and trotted quickly into a discreet little patch of shrubbery, tail waving slightly as she disappeared into the dimness beyond.

_-Chapter Thirteen: Sparrowfeather's Kits-_

"Does it hurt being near-sighted?"

The words were blurted out of Ferretpaw's mouth in a gaspy manner, for all five apprentices were running as quickly as they could toward the nursery-Sparrowfeather was having her kits! Rainpaw didn't answer Ferretpaw's question-either from gasping too hard or ignoring it out of embarrassment. Strongpaw would have glared at the blunt brown tom if her thoughts had not been crowded with questions about Sparrowfeather and her soon-to-be newborns-would they be meowing when they came out? What if one of them was a stillborn? What if Sparrowfeather got hurt?!

The air was filled with giddy excitement as the father-to-be, Lionclaw, stood nervously by the entrance. But as the apprentices raced into the nursery, his nervousness faded away. "Are the kits born yet?" he asked, golden ears perking up excitedly. "Are they? Tell me when they're here!"

Nobody answered him for a few seconds, until a sudden soft gasp went up, then dissipated in the stuffy nursery air, replaced by soft coos of delight and little, almost minusicle meows...

Strongpaw watched in utter awe as the squirmy little pink things nestled into Sparrowfeather's belly and started suckling. There was three of them, a she-cat and two toms, one of them a scrawny little runty thing that looked almost too small to survive. They all had wet, thin fur-the stronger tom's a pale gray with darker spots speckling his slick pelt, the daughter's a beautiful golden, and the runt's a thin coat of light brown. Nightshine carefully guided the runt into his mother's belly. He was almost buried by the weight of Sparrowfeather's teats as he, mewling weakly, drank his fill.

Sparrowfeather radiated happiness as she stared adoringly at her kits, her blue eyes sparkling with joy. Lionclaw somehow managed to shove his way in and gasped at the sight of his sons and daughter. "What...what are we going to name them?" he asked, his voice uncharacteristically emotional, amber eyes glistening with affection for his mate and kits. There was so much emotion in the air between Sparrowfeather and Lionclaw Strongpaw started feeling a little uncomfortable. She wondered if she would ever feel that way with her mate, if she ever took one.

Sparrowfeather stared searchingly at her offspring, who had fallen asleep against her belly, and murmured, "I think I'd like to name the smaller one Weaselkit."

Lionclaw nodded reasonably. "I like it. And I'd like to name the other tom Goosekit, after my father's father."

"Goosekit?! After _Goosefur_?!" Sparrowfeather spluttered, eyes glimmering with amusement. "Oh, I remember Goosefur. He was a bit of a kook, though, wasn't he?"

Lionclaw shook his head. "No, you're thinking about Gooseclaw...but then again, I guess Goosefur took after his father's father's father, anyway. Might've skipped a few generations." The mates chuckled. Strongpaw wondered who Goosefur and Gooseclaw were.

"What about the she-cat?" asked Harepaw happily, jumping in place. He loved kits, especially newborns. This was the first time he had actually coaxed Sparrowfeather through the entire birthing procedure, with Nightshine watching nearby, just in case, a proud look on her face as her apprentice wiggled about like an energetic kit.

"Hmmm. How about Goldenkit? Her fur's the same color as yours is," Sparrowfeather mused. Lionclaw puffed out his chest proudly.

Soon, Nightshine shooed the apprentices out of the nursery so the couple and their kits could have some time to bond. Strongpaw bounded past Rainpaw, Harepaw, and Lionpaw, and promptly cuffed Ferretpaw on the head. "Ow!" he wailed, shaking his head as if to get rid of the pain. "What was that for?"

"What kind of question was that?" Strongpaw yelled back, "About the near-sighted thing-what was that all about? How insensitive can you be?!"

"Strongpaw," murmured Rainpaw, cringing visibly at her sister's boldness, "I...it's fine. It doesn't really hurt...it's just frustrating. It'll probably delay my final assessments by at least half a moon."

Leopardpaw gave a gasp of sympathy from beside complaining Ferretpaw. "Oh, StarClan!" she sighed, "That must be like a claw to the face-and when we're all so close to our warriors' ceremony, too! Well, except for you, Strongpaw, but now at least you guys can train together!"

Strongpaw's ears laid back, muttering angrily under her breath, "Yeah, and we'll both have creaky bones before we're even granted our warrior names."

Leopardpaw was still talking. "So, anyway, what do you think of the new kits?" she asked, a little too cheerfully. "They're _sooo _cute! Like baby mice. Or, you know, something less tasty. Don't you think?"

Lionpaw and Ferretpaw murmured their agreement. Harepaw's eyes lit up and his mouth leapt into a large grin. "I love them!" he cried happily, "They'll make great warriors. Unless...unless, what if one of them wants to be a medicine cat apprentice?! That'd be amazing! I could train them along with Nightshine, and it'd be like having my own-"

Harepaw stopped dead in his sentence, blushing, eyes trained to the ground. The warrior apprentices stared at him, speechless. Strongpaw blinked. Lionpaw raised an eyebrow. Leopardpaw mouth was agape. Ferretpaw's eye twitched. Rainpaw swallowed awkwardly.

"Um, bye," Harepaw meowed uncomfortably, then skittered to the medicine cat's den in a hurry.

"Ummm...so anyway," Leopardpaw started again quickly, "How about those...er...hunting patrols? They're pretty tough, aren't they? 'Specially since it's getting colder. Stormclaw said it's going to be leaf-bare in a couple moons."

Strongpaw and Rainpaw stiffened at the mention of their father-and Leopardpaw's mentor. The black apprentice didn't seem to notice, and kept on babbling.

"Hey, why are you so chatty all of a sudden?" cut in Lionpaw somewhat irritably. "We can't even get a word in edgewise!"

Leopardpaw shut her mouth and narrowed her eyes, then hissed, "Hey, mousebrain, _I'm _the one who has to console Ivypelt about Lionclaw, not you! And she's bawling and boo-hooing like there's no tomorrow, and I have to listen to every single sappy, gooey, _moony _mew! Like she ever had a chance with that tom anyway! So just let me talk, okay?!"

"Leopardpaw!" boomed ThunderClan's deputy from across the campground, gray-blue tail waving. "Trembletail, Graycloud, and Whitefoot need their bedding changed. Quickly, now! I have to talk with Antstar, but when I get back we'll do some battle training."

With one last angry sneer at Lionpaw, Leopardpaw bounded away to the elders' den, just as dusk settled over the horizon. Strongpaw tiredly shared a large bluejay with the remaining apprentices and slugged into the apprentices' den, collapsing with a soft sigh and gradually falling into a deep, blissful sleep. It had been a long day.

_-Chapter Fourteen: Stormclaw and Antstar watch the Sky-_

Antstar woke with a strange feeling ringing in her ears and fluttering in her stomach. It wasn't one of immediate doom, like she usually thought. It was...different. Something more curious and exciting tinged her teeth in a way that probed her to get up, shake herself of the moss scraps clinging to her pelt, and venture curiously outside into the cool evening air.

Suddenly, just as her paws settled themselves into the soft grass outside her den, a familiar scent hit the little brown she-cat's nostrils: Stormclaw.

Wondering what in StarClan Stormclaw was doing awake in the middle of the night, Antstar padded cautiously forward until the grayish blue tom came into view. His back was turned toward her, tail swishing silently as his head was bent...and then he straightened, ears flicking upward-he had heard her pawsteps.

The ThunderClan deputy turned around swiftly to face her, and Antstar started. Stormclaw's pupils had grown larger, so large that they had almost overwhelmed his amber irises...it was slightly unnerving.

"Stormclaw?" murmured Antstar, trying not to let her shock squeak its way in her words. Stormclaw didn't answer for a few seconds, just stared, unfocused, at seemingly nothing and blinked rapidly until his pupils were back to normal. "Hello, Antstar," he replied quietly, working something out out of the very back of his cheek and swallowing. "What brings you out here so late?"

"I was going to look for signs in Silverpelt tonight," Antstar explained, somewhat truthfully. It _had _crossed her mind...yesterday. She shifted on her paws. Antstar hated untruthfulness. It was definitely not a good quality for a good, noble leader like herself to have. But it wouldn't feel right to tell Stormclaw the truth, somehow.

"May I join you?" he inquired curiously. "I'd like to see what you think of the different star patterns."

Reluctantly, Antstar nodded. She didn't much like having to share her star-gazing time with another cat, but it would seem impolite to say no.

And so the duo padded to the small stream, where they could drink and watch the night sky at the same time. Antstar had suggested it-she was suddenly thirsty.

As they sat and watched the stars, Antstar couldn't help but feel relaxed-she did every time she looked at them at night, even despite the declarance of doom they had sentenced upon the Clans. They were so peaceful and mysterious, twinkling with a comforting glow, with the vast, milky moon hanging beautifully in the dark black sky around them. The night breeze was brisk, making their whiskers flutter and ears flicker. Their eyes reflected the moonlight, so that they glowed in a way that seemed almost magical. It was a wonderful evening to be out among the stars.

Suddenly, without warning, a large gust of wind buffeted the cats' pelts. Their glowing eyes squinted into slants, and their fur was hurled back against their skin. The moon seemed to bob, and the stars seemed to jump, it was so windy. Antstar dug her claws into the ground to keep from tumbling away, whilst Stormclaw's paws could easily find purchase in the dirt without them being unsheathed, and, seeing his leader was in danger of blowing away, the ThunderClan deputy quickly grabbed Antstar by the scruff of her neck and gently lifted her up, leapt to her den in only a few swift strides, and set her down at the entrance.

"Thank you," Antstar meowed. She began to indignantly lick her paw as she sat on her haunches, then added huffily, "But I'm sure you could have thought of a better way to help me. Being held by your scruff is utterly humiliating."

Stormclaw smiled. "I'm sure I would've found a way. But if I had stopped and thought you could have been blown away."

Antstar wasn't sure she liked his condescending tone, and she flattened her ears against her head in response. "Look," she snarled, "I can take care of myself just fine. _I _became the leader of ThunderClan not because of my stature, but because of what really matters-my mind."

Stormclaw stepped inside her den, gaze softening. "I'm sorry," he mewed, "I didn't mean to sound like such a mousebrain. I know you _are _capable of taking care of yourself. And, truthfully, I admire you for it. I was born with strength and brawn-I didn't have to work at proving myself like you did."

Antstar's ears flicked themselves back up, and she began to blush at his flattery. "Th-...thank you," she stammered, "I-...it's about time someone told me that!"

"Right." Something passed over Stormclaw's eyes, some kind of vague, dreamy gaze, and then he asked after a moment's thought, "Would it be all right if I slept here tonight, Antstar? The warriors' den is crowded enough as it is."

Antstar opened her mouth to answer, then closed it again, her gray-blue eyes searching Stormclaw's amber ones, yet, being unsuccessful, she finally decided to rely on her trust in her deputy and muttered, "Fine. Just don't try anything funny."

Stormclaw's eyes widened, as if he wouldn't dream of it. "Of course not!" he meowed in surprise. "Really, Antstar, I've been your deputy since...since forever."

"You mean since Snowtooth died?" Antstar replied icily, lashing her tail. "Come on. It must be cold out there."

_-Chapter Fifteen: Hareheart and the Moonstone-_

Harepaw could still feel the bitter taste of the traveling herbs as he trudged through the RiverClan camp, with Nightshine guiding him through the darkness. The Moonstone seemed farther away than ever, but the medicine cat apprentice could definitely recognize the fishy smell of RiverClan, where surely Reedpaw and his mentor, Bluestorm, would be gone from by now. The half-moon was already high in the sky. He vaguely wondered if Reedpaw had talked to Olivepaw, or her mentor, Graylily, recently. If he had-or Foxpaw had, for that matter-would they tell him about it? Although they were brought together every half-moon for the traditional visit to the Moonstone, the apprentices were barely more than friendly (or less-than-friendly, in Foxpaw's case) acquaintances. A foreboding rumble sounded in Harepaw's stomach, and Nightshine looked over her shoulder at him curiously, yellow eyes glowing in the night from which she was named-her pelt was completely blended in. "Are you okay, Harepaw?" she asked, concerned.

"I'm fine," Harepaw reassured her confidently, dismissing the rumble as a hunger pang. The medicine cats weren't allowed to eat before the Moonstone meeting, though Harepaw had no idea as to why. Nightshine had mentioned to him when he was going to the Mothermouth for the first time that it had something to do with being "pure", that the ancient cats of the forest had done it because they believed that their ancestors' wisdom would be enough to fill their empty bellies and that consuming prey before the Moonstone meeting confused the StarClan spirits, simply because, as dead ones, they were not fooled by live cats' fleshy guise and would be puzzled because there would be multiple spirits inside the full feline-the fresh-kill. Herbs were different, Harepaw guessed, because they weren't, well, living, really.

Thankfully, the two journeying cats had past RiverClan's border and were halfway there, and Harepaw could just make out the forms of Bluestorm and Reedpaw-had they been sidetracked and started out late?-beside them, silky, thick coats shimmering in the faint light of the half-moon. The four medicine cats padded through the grass and dirt, silent as the stars, until they reached the intimidating Mothermouth-the entrance to the Moonstone.

Already feeling the tug of StarClan pull at his paws, Harepaw stepped forward eagerly-only to be stopped by Nightshine. She gazed at him with shining eyes. "I have an announcement to make," she murmured softly. Reedpaw and Bluestorm glanced at each other in obvious confusion from the entrance of the Mothermouth. Vaguely, Harepaw couldn't help but wonder why they were so eager to get to the Moonstone, but that thought was drowned out by his curiosity as Nightshine uttered, "I, Nightshine of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of a medicine cat, and with help he will serve his Clan for many moons. Harepaw, do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from rivalry between Clan and Clan and protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?"

Silence, apart from the crickets chirping in nearby bushes, massed over the medicine cats as Harepaw sucked in a breath, eyes wide. "R-really?" he stuttered, shocked. "Uh, uh, umm, yes, sure, okay. Yes."

Nightshine looked at him sternly. The brown medicine cat apprentice laid his ears back in embarrassment, then cleared his throat and meowed confidently, "I do."

Nightshine smiled briefly, then continued strongly, "Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your full name as a medicine cat. Harepaw, from this moment on you will be known as Hareheart. StarClan honors your enthusiasm and thoughtfulness, and we welcome you as a full medicine cat of ThunderClan."

With pride glowing in her amber eyes, Nightshine lowered her ebony muzzle onto Hareheart's head, as the custom demanded. In return, he licked her shoulder, resisting the urge to jump for joy and struggling to not shout, "YAHOO!"

"Hareheart, Hareheart, Hareheart!" Bluestorm and Reedpaw chanted, with the newly arrived Olivepaw and Graylily echoing their words. The newly named Hareheart glanced at the WindClan apprentice, and she smiled warmly at him. He grinned hugely back.

"Sorry to interrupt," muttered a voice that chilled the night air and even silenced the eternally-chirping crickets for a few seconds, "But shouldn't we be getting to the Moonstone? Dusk will be coming in just hours."

Foxpaw appeared, with his mentor Blackfeather, who had just uttered the coldly-mewed words, from the shadows, eyes glowing eerily in the darkness. Hareheart took a step back, suddenly self conscious, and Bluestorm lifted his chin defiantly in ShadowClan's senior medicine cat's direction. "We'll be there in a moment," he rumbled lowly, "Just celebrating. This apprentice's become a medicine cat in full-nothing should penetrate that special moment in a young cat's life."

Graylily nodded, beautiful, angled face flashing silver in the moonlight. "I agree," she purred, "Hareheart is now a fully mature medicine tom-or don't you remember your _own _ceremony, Blackfeather? How special it was?"

Blackfeather's eyes narrowed, lips twisted in a grim frown. "Right," he spat, "It was utterly _wonderful_, seeing as my mentor had been torn to pieces just a day before and now the medicine cat duties lay on my shoulders completely in the wake of a battle that would damage my Clan for moons and moons."

"No," mewed Graylily quietly, eyes softening as they met Blackfeather's, "I meant...you had all that power. You _have _all this power, over healing and spirituality...doesn't that give you an _inkling_ of joy?"

The ebony tom shook his head in disgust, shoving the she-cat out of the way and butting past Reedpaw and Bluestorm roughly at the Mothermouth's ominous entrance. With a sigh, Graylily and Olivepaw followed them soon afterward, with Hareheart and Nightshine close behind.

The moment he touched the Moonstone, all giddiness faded away from Hareheart's mind...

..._Replaced by comfort at seeing the starry green meadows of StarClan, carefree and unburdened by the looming threat of leaf-bare that was only so far away. The warriors of StarClan were silky-furred, pleasantly plump, and happy, despite being few in numbers compared to the Old Clans' original StarClan. Immediately, Hareheart spied Flamebreeze, a tawny tom who was the former mate of Gingertail and father of Burrpelt and Whitecloud. "Hello!" the starry warrior greeted him brightly as he bounded through the tall, soft grasses, "You're the new apprentice, right? Oakstorm's, right? Or, wait-what about Silverlight? Oh...no, she was the mentor of that one black kit, what was her name? Nightpaw?" Flamebreeze cocked his head innocently. _

_Hareheart couldn't help but gawk at the tom. Did he really not remember ThunderClan's medicine cat? He, after all, had been only a little older than her when he died. Flamebreeze waited patiently for an answer, his eyes youthfully curious. Hareheart sighed and answered truthfully, "Yes, Nightp-Nightshine's the...new...medicine cat. I'm her apprentice-or, I was. Now I'm her...partner, I guess you could say. My name's Hareheart." _

_Flamebreeze's eyes widened, and he shook his head in puzzled disbelief. "How could I forget? Good old Nightshine. Very sweet, very kind, very caring. And you! Her apprentice...amazing how time flies by in the Clans below. It's easy to get carried away here," he added faintly, eyes going glassy. "Very easy. Painfully easy... Anyway, guess what?"_

_Hareheart frowned, impatient. "Uh, look, Flamebreeze," he mumbled, "I have to...to...see Dapplespots. I'll see you next half-moon, okay?"_

_Before the talkative tom could answer, the light brown medicine cat darted past him, eyes searching for the light gray elder that had passed due to blackcough two leaf-bares before he was born. The two had become friends when Hareheart had confessed, on his first Moonstone-inclined StarClan visit, that he wasn't sure what to do. The old she-cat had shown him around in a friendly matter, and from that visit on Hareheart had always make sure to at least say a warm word to Dapplespots. But now he couldn't find her anywhere._

_"Harepaw! Yoo-hoo!"_

_Hareheart whipped around to see Dapplespots, bathing in the sun on a large rock whose size could rival the Highrock's, with some other old she-cats, splayed out comfortably. "Harepaw! How are you, kit?"_

_Hareheart strode toward them, glad to see the old she-cat. "I'm a medicine cat now," he couldn't help but boast a little as he stopped beneath the large rock, "My name is now Hareheart."_

_"Hareheart! My, my," twittered the tortoiseshell next to Dapplespots, "What a wonderful name. I mean, a name like Swiftclaw compared to a name like Hareheart just doesn't compare, not at all, in the sense that Hareheart is better, of course. Such a wonderful, noble name." _

_Dapplespots chuckled fondly. "Hareheart, my boy...meet Swiftclaw, Sparrowsong, and Mousetail, my friends." _

_The toroiseshell bowed her head first. "I'm Swiftclaw," she said solemnly, "I died from a battle wound-wrenched out all my claws at once and bled to death one night." _

_Hareheart flinched, and couldn't help but sneak a small glance at her claws. They were beautiful in a deadly way, he noticed with a flash of admiration as he thought of his own stubby, blunt claws. _

_"They popped right back in when I died," Swiftclaw added with a kind smile. Then she turned to a white cat with brown eyes. "Sparrowsong, don't be rude. Introduce yourself!"_

_The white cat cleared her throat, whiskers twitching in irritation. "I am, Swiftclaw. Hello, young one. I'm Sparrowsong. I died from crossing the Thunderpath foolishly late at night. My Clanmates escaped, but...I didn't make it." The white she-cat had a tinge of sadness glistening in her eyes as she added the last bit. Harepaw suddenly felt a large tug of gratefulness that he was alive. Though he could still communicate with the StarClan warriors, their own Clanmates would forever have a barrier between their loved ones. _

_"I am Mousetail!" sang a slightly younger cat with gray fur and a small nose energetically. "Old age. Lucky me." _

_"But...you're not that old," Hareheart blurted out before he could stop himself. He cursed his big mouth. _

_"Oh, no," laughed Mousetail lightly. "You're too kind, kit. I'm much older than I look, little one. Thankfully, the winds of the moors had been kind to my weathered paws. I miss WindClan, the Clan of the moors, with all my heart, but..." Mousetail sighed nostalgically, "My home is with StarClan now. And thank the Clan for that-without me being in it, I wouldn't have met these lovely she-cats!"_

_The group laughed wholeheartedly. Hareheart smiled, slightly uncertain. He shifted on his paws-what was he supposed to do now? Usually some cat needed to talk with him, but-_

_Dapplespots' eyes glazed over suddenly. Her gaze was alert, ears twitching. Her fur rippled in a sudden wind that blew all the felines' fur back, but they were still laughing in an oddly muffled way, as if nothing was happening. "Hareheart?" boomed Dapplespots clearly, "You need to go back. I'm sorry we didn't get to talk more, kit. Good luck in your duties, and tell Nightshine I said-"_

But then her words were deafened by the harsh, strong wind that twisted StarClan's grounds into an unidentifiable swirl of starry color, until they bled into the night stars that dazzled out as Hareheart's eyes blinked open. Medicine cats stirred around him, looking either blissfully content or slightly puzzled as they dreamt. Hareheart yawned, feeling drowsy, and stretched out his claws comfortably.

"Awake already?"

Hareheart whirled around to see the shimmering silver beauty that was Graylily, her mint-colored eyes sparkling. "Exciting, isn't it," the beautiful she-cat purred, "To become a medicine cat fully. It's a wonderful experience, you know. Completely unique to any other."

Hareheart nodded stiffly. He didn't know Graylily that well, and felt wary of her, for reasons he couldn't explain.

She stepped forward, a slight smile on her lips. "Are you happy, Hareheart?" she asked softly, sweetly. Twinkling eyes glowing in the Moonstone's beautiful light, Graylily waited patiently for his answer, tail waving side to side slowly.

"Umm..." Hareheart stuttered, fur bristling slightly, "I...I guess so-I mean, yes! Of course I am-I've just become a real medicine cat. That was my destiny, and I've fulfilled it. Why wouldn't I be happy?"

"Really," Graylily breathed quietly, "That's what you want. A destiny fulfilled. Interesting."

Hareheart was starting to feel incredibly uncomfortable with the way the WindClan medicine cat was staring at him, so intently and mystifyingly, her eyes a peculiar cloudy green. "And I thought you were a little goody-four-paws," she murmured, along with a small _mrrow _of a chuckle, under her breath, as she stepped a little closer...

"Hareheart!"

The called cat swung around to face a horrified Nightshine. Her eyes were wide, fur bristling visibly. "_What _are you _doing_?!" she hissed furiously, amber eyes firing up with flame.

Hareheart drew a blank, eyes confused. "What?" he mewed, stepping back in shock. "Nightshine, I was..."

Graylily raised an eyebrow mischievously, then retreated back into the shadows of the outside, Olivepaw following reluctantly behind. Bluestorm and Reedpaw padded doggedly at their heels in an embarrassed flurry of goodbyes. Nightshine glared at the brown tom for a few seconds before gritting her teeth and muttering gruffly, "Come on. We'll talk about this in the den."

Hareheart followed his former mentor out of the Mothermouth, puzzling over what had just happened all the way.

_-Chapter Sixteen: A Voice in the Bush-_

"Ow!" Strongpaw yelped as Fernlight carefully grasped the end of the thorn lodged in her paw pad with her teeth. "Stay still," her mother grumbled through a mouthful of thorn, "This'll go by quicker than anything as long as you stay still as you can, dear."

"But it _hurts_," the cream-furred apprentice whined through clenched teeth, flexing her claws in the dirt anxiously. Fernlight released her hold on the thorn and looked at her daughter crossly. "StarClan," she exclaimed, "You act as if you've never been injured before! No wonder you're still an apprentice, Strongpaw-you need to toughen your hide."

Strongpaw's eyes narrowed. _Like I need to be reminded of Rainpaw and the others' stupid final assessments! _

As she tried to get another grip on the irritating thorn, Fernlight's ears flicked up alertly and the cream warrior sighed, nose twitching. "I can hear Icefern calling," she murmured tiredly. "I have to go on a patrol, alright? I'm sure that thorn will ease its way out with a few good bites to it. And if it's still being a pest, you can go to Nightshine and Harepaw when they get back from the Moonstone."

With one last affectionate lick, Fernlight heaved herself up and darted off, leaving Strongpaw to grumble to herself as she pitifully licked the throbbing flesh around the stupid thorn, then, wincing, lurched to her paws and looked around, feeling bored for the first time in days. Her new mentor, delightfully, was Blossompelt, and she had worked hard and long throughout the past few days, struggling to keep up with her new mentor's sudden expectations to fight and hunt regularly.

All the other apprentices were asleep, having had a tough final assessment that morning. The warriors Poppypelt, Icefern, Fernlight, and Quillfur were on the last border patrol for the evening, and Dawnfur, Duskyfoot, Gingertail and Crowtail were on a hunting patrol, with Whitecloud, Burrpelt, Mistyflower, Ivypelt, Snowfrost, and all the other warriors on another. They had been sent by Stormclaw around twilight, to make sure the fresh-kill pile was very, _very _well-stocked for the coming leaf-bare.

Now, the only cats left in camp besides the sleeping apprentices were Sparrowfeather, in the nursery with her kits Weaselkit, Goosekit, and Goldenkit, Stormclaw and Antstar, who were somewhere in camp (Strongpaw figured), and herself. At first she had worried about one of the other Clans attacking in the middle of the night, but Fernlight had reassured her comfortingly, a fact that the cream-colored apprentice resented-if she were to be a warrior, she had to put away such kit-like needs.

Strongpaw wandered to the fresh-kill pile, bare save for a skinny little scrap of a shrew. She gulped it mindlessly, then padded, silently whining to herself, towards a scrubby patch of bushes that wasn't very noticeable compared to the other lumps of shrubbery in ThunderClan camp, licking her wounded paw with as much pity as possible without throwing up due to how disgusted with herself for acting so pitiful. The truth was, Strongpaw didn't want to be such a kit about the thorn, but something inside her had snapped when she had heard that the others had passed their final assessment, while she was still training on the basics-not to mention she had gotten the thorn stuck in her paw hunting that day while the others were resting. These days, Strongpaw felt farther away from Rainpaw and Leopardpaw than ever.

Suddenly-

"Are you ill, too?"

_A voice. Coming from the bush._

And that's when Strongpaw fainted.

_-Chapter Seventeen: Littlekit, Amongst Other Things-_

Strongpaw woke to dimness and stuffy air, with cracks of dawn light shifting through the...branches?

Shaking off the dizziness, the creamy apprentice launched herself to her paws, stumbling a little in the dimness. As Strongpaw looked around, she couldn't help but notice that the...was it a bush?..._thing _she was in was surprisingly roomy. Maybe only a little smaller than the apprentices' den, even!

Suddenly, Strongpaw recollected her last memory before blanking out into unconsciusness. What _was _that voice? And why did it come from a _bush_, of all things?

_Well, _thought Strongpaw reasonably, _Obviously some cat must have lugged me into this bushy...thing. It probably was the voice-but why would it do that? And what had it meant when it asked if I was ill? Who asks weird things like _that_?_

"What's your name?"

Strongpaw jumped, ears swiveling automatically to where the voice was coming from.

"What's your name?" the voice asked again curiously.

"Strongpaw," Strongpaw mewed warily. "N-...now come into the light. Let me see you better."

The eyes widened, and then they bobbed for a moment, as if the cat that they belonged to was nodding. Then, from the shadows, stepped...nothing.

Strongpaw stared, dumbfounded. "Where are you?!" she spluttered, confused.

"Here!" chirped the voice happily, and Strongpaw looked down to see...a kit.

"My name's Littlekit," the kit told her cheerfully, "Strongpaw is a nice name. Mother always told me to never speak to strangers, but since we know each other's names then we're not strangers anymore! Right? Oh, and also, when you fainted outside I decided to bring you in here-you're heavy, by the way-and help you, because that's the nice thing to do even if you don't know the cat. Right? Do you live in ThunderClan?"

Strongpaw was struck dumb by the kit's seemingly endless chatter, but shook her head to regain her speech. "Of course I do," she told the kit, slightly irritably, "If I didn't I'd have a different scent. And what would a non-ThunderClan cat be doing on ThunderClan territory, anyway?"

The kit paused, thinking. "...I don't know."

Strongpaw resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Didn't this kit know _anything_? And what was the little furball doing in a _bush_, anyway? Why wasn't he in the nursery? Whose kit was it?

"Who's your mother?" the creamy-furred apprentice demanded, tail-tip flicking urgently.

"Snowfrost! She's white and has blue eyes. I think she's nice sometimes, but then again other times she's mean, but I suppose you can't judge a cat by how nice they are at times because _everybody's _mean _sometimes_, right? But..."

Strongpaw tuned out the rest of the talkative kit's chatter and stood stock-still, mulling over the newfound information. _Snowfrost had another kit?! _she thought in surprise. _But why wasn't it in the nursery? When did she even have him? Who's the father? Was the kit part of a litter or...? _

"...guess you wouldn't be able to tell really anything about the cat on just what they look like."

The kit was looking at her expectantly when Strongpaw snapped out of her daze. "So," the kit urged, "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Ill."

"No!" Strongpaw exclaimed, appalled, fur bristling. "What gave you that idea?"

Littlekit paused, then said truthfully, "You fainted."

"I _know_," Strongpaw snapped, "But that doesn't mean I'm sick. Sometimes cats faint when they're shocked, or...or something!"

Littlekit nodded, then asked innocently, "Were you shocked about something when you fainted?"

Strongpaw's skin twitched beneath her fur in irritation. "Yes. I was shocked by _you_, calling out to me from behind this stinking bush! Why are you here, anyway?"

Littlekit paused again. "My mother."

Strongpaw's eyes narrowed. "No. _Really_."

The kit paused even longer. "My...mother...?" he mewed uncertainly.

Strongpaw resisted the urge to beat her head against the ground as she muttered through clenched teeth, "Never _mind_. I'll ask Snowfrost about it. Uh...bye, kit. Um...I'll see you later. I guess."

"Oh, you're leaving?" Littlekit's ears drooped momentarily, then popped back up again as he cheerily meowed, "Okay! Come back soon, okay? Bye! Bye, Strongpaw!"

The creamy-furred apprentice leapt out of the bush, then let out a startled gasp. Strongpaw tumbled to the ground, surprised by the sudden flash of sunlight glaring into her eyes. With a small groan of pain, Strongpaw heaved herself up, coming face to face with..._Lionpaw_.

Cursing her clumsiness, Strongpaw cleared her throat, forcing a smile on her face. "Um, hi," she mewed casually.

"Hi," Lionpaw replied, amber eyes seeming to glow in the light, "Are...you okay?"

"Yes," Strongpaw mewed quickly, feeling heat flush over the skin beneath her face fur, "I'm fine. Uh, so...are you excited to become a warrior at last?"

"I guess. Yeah, actually," Lionpaw meowed, perking up. "It's going to be amazing. All those cats, and with Antstar on the Highrock and all that. I'm hoping to get a really good name, one that really forces fear into the other Clans' hearts!" He gave a mock growl for emphasis, before laughing goodheartedly. Then his face grew somber. "But...is it hard, knowing your sister's going to become a warrior before you?"

Strongpaw nodded awkwardly, scuffing one of her front paws in the dirt. "Yes," she sighed. "It is. But, you know, Rainpaw's _Rainpaw_. If I could have any other cat to be my littermate when this was happening, I wouldn't pick anyone else, because I know Rainpaw's nice enough not to gloat."

Silence.

"So...how's Ferretpaw?" Strongpaw said quickly, before things got too uncomfortable.

"More nervous than a hare in a dog's den," Lionpaw mumbled with a half-smile. "Um, look, Strongpaw, I gotta go. See you at the ceremony!"

The golden, lion-like cat slipped past her, bounding away into the underbrush. Strongpaw sighed in frustration and stamped her paw. It seemed she was no farther than she was in terms of Lionpaw's interest than she was moons ago.

Antstar's eyes gleamed with pride as she gazed down at the four apprentices beneath her, looking excited and well-groomed. The crowd beyond them held warriors with nostalgic looks on their muzzles, mothers and fathers looking proudly at their young, the elders Trembletail, Whitefoot, and Graycloud smiling faintly as yet another generation of youngsters ran along the long, well-worn path to warriorhood, and the kits, Weaselkit, Goldenkit, and Goosekit, complaining loudly about how _they _should become warriors right then and there since there was already a ceremony going on.

"I," she began traditionally, "Antstar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn."

Her eyes glittered as she cast her gaze on the trembling Ferretpaw, nervousness flooding off him in waves. "Ferretpaw," Antstar boomed, "Do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

Ferretpaw licked his lips briefly and said, clearly despite a bit shakily, "I do."

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Ferretpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Ferretface. StarClan honors your loyalty and spirit, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan."

Cheers erupted as Antstar's ceremonial words ended. "Ferretface! Ferretface! Ferretface! Ferretface!" the felines roared.

The newly named Ferretface beamed, bowed his head hastily to the ThunderClan leader, and scrambled away to embrace his mother, a tired-looking Gingertail.

Strongpaw, despite her jealousy, couldn't help but cheer along as her fellow apprentices were named: Liontail, Leopardbelly, and finally, her own littermate, Raintalon. One by one, the cats in the crowd roared, cheered, and celebrated.

It was a day to be proud of.

_-Chapter Eighteen: Talk of a Temptress-_

Hareheart felt pure, wild joy unleash itself inside of him as he leapt and yelled happily, along with his Clanmates, the names of the newly named warriors, Nightshine by his side. Blood was pumping through his veins. His fur was bristling with excitement. His eyes were glowing, roars were flowing...he felt like he could fly.

But then it ended. Warriors, elders, and that one last apprentice, Strongpaw (that was her name, wasn't it?) wandered off to sleep in their dens, and Nightshine, fury emanating off her in sour waves of anger, beckoned him in short, brisk jerks of her tail toward the medicine cat den. Hareheart stumbled after her, fur prickling with worry. What had he done that was so bad that Nightshine had had the urge to hurry him away from the Moonstone like he was a new apprentice?

Once they were inside the dim den, Nightshine turned on him, eyes flashing. "Hareheart," she sighed resignedly, the embers of her eyes evoking a slight sputter of flame, but then the sigh accompanied her words making it flutter out. "You know that, as it is our duty as medicine cats, that we have to stick to our own particular code, yes?"

Hareheart nodded nervously, sitting on his haunches.

"Well," Nightshine murmured, "Even though our code allows us to be more friendly toward other cats doesn't mean-"

Hareheart, suddenly realizing what Nightshine was implying, felt the heat of embarrassment flaming his fur. "Nigh-Nightshine," he spluttered, eyes wide, "I...I would never think...I don't...Graylily's not, she wasn't trying to, we we were just t-talking..."

Nightshine frowned. "Hareheart, I'm not mad at you. Well, I _was_, at one point, but I'll admit it was a little unfair of me to immediately blame you for the situation. And, honestly, the scene looked only a little less than innocent to me-on Graylily's part, that is. You're a sweet tom, Hareheart. I know you wouldn't do anything so...brazen. Graylily, however..." The ebony she-cat sighed. "Well, she's what the toms would call a temptress. She's sneaky and clever, able to get the things she wants with a flick of her tail and a sly smile, and unafraid to call on toms from other Clans. Be wary of her, Hareheart. She is a good ally, yet an even more fearsome opponent."

Hareheart nodded slowly, eyes understanding. "Okay," he meowed, "I will. Thank you, Nightshine. I...I had no idea that she-"

Nightshine shot the brown medicine cat a stern look. "I know," she mewed, "Believe me, you aren't the first tom to fall under her spell."

Hareheart opened his mouth to object, but the ebony she-cat continued relentlessly. "In fact, only a few moons before you were born, RiverClan's former medicine cat, Rocktail, attempted to run away with her one night at the Moonstone. His apprentice, Bluestorm, took over as sole medicine cat soon after he disappeared. Rumors ran loose all over the Clans, and grew even more plentiful when Graylily returned a moon later-without Rocktail. To this day, we still don't know what could have happened to him. Torn apart by foxes and badgers, maybe. Anyway, what I mean to say is that you're not alone. You do know that, don't you?"

Hareheart swallowed hard as he absorbed the information, and shivered. Graylily had seemed so nice-a little odd, a little peculiar, but still _nice_-at the last half-moon. Could she really be a-what did she call it?-a _temptress_?

_-Chapter Nineteen: Show Them All-_

Strongpaw opened her eyes just as dusk was falling, and just as she woke she smelled the mouthwatering scent of fresh-kill. _Good, _she thought gleefully as she settled on her paws and stretched with a yawn, _I could use some water vole._

Suddenly, she was aware of how empty the den was, without the others. The new warriors were going to sit vigil together when night became completely dark, as the tradition went. Strongpaw felt another stab of bitterness in her gut, but shook it off and padded out of the den._ At least Weaselkit, Goldenkit, and Goosekit are going to become apprentices in a few moons, _she consoled herself optimistically, _Not to mention that weird kit in the bu-the bush! The kit! I need to talk to Snowfrost before she goes out on another border patrol!_

Abandoning her desire for fresh-kill for the moment, the cream-furred apprentice scrambled wildly over to her mother, Fernlight, who was chatting absentmindedly with Mistyflower, Ivypelt, and her sister, Duskyfoot. "Fernlight!" she cried, almost tripping over Ivypelt's tail as she bumbled to her mother's side, "Where's Snowfrost? Have you seen her?"

Fernlight looked at her daughter, annoyance hidden within the twitch of her whiskers. "Strongpaw," she hissed, "The warriors are talking. Please, just-I think Snowfrost might be near the fresh-kill pile. Why don't you check there."

"I thought she went on a border patrol," argued Mistyflower, eyebrow raised. "Or didn't she tell you?"

"Tell me what?" the cream warrior demanded with a sigh, "Don't tell me she's bungling off with another tom again."

"But-" Strongpaw protested, but Duskyfoot interrupted with a slight frown on her face, ears flicking. "No, not that," she meowed, "Something about the fresh-kill she caught last night. Said it tasted better than usual."

"Well, that's not big news," Fernlight mewed dismissively, "After a good hunting session the prey always tastes good."

"Well..." Duskyfoot paused, worry crinkling her amber eyes, "I suppose that could be it."

Strongpaw restlessly dug her claws in the dirt, lashing her tail. She didn't _care _about stupid fresh-kill right now! Couldn't they just _tell _her where Snowfrost was instead of turning it into a huge debate?!

Finally, after a horrid four more heartbeats of the she-cats' conversation, Strongpaw took off to search for the white warrior herself-but not without going over to the fresh-kill pile for a bite to eat first. Her stomach's rumblings would have distracted her from her search, she told herself.

The creamy apprentice was so intent on prey that she almost didn't realize that Lionp-er, Lion_tail_-was there, picking a piece of fresh-kill. Strongpaw looked at him, hope blooming in her chest. His amber eyes were scrutinizing a squirrel, before picking it up in his jaws and straightening his head-and that's when he saw her.

"Oh," Liontail murmured through a mouthful of squirrel, "Hi, Strongpaw."

"Hi, Liontail," Strongpaw replied with a smile, "Er...so, what's it like being a warrior?"

"Oh, you know." He shrugged, the squirrel's tail bobbing in his mouth. "It's fine. Pretty nice, actually. Um...at least, I don't get to be bossed anymore, anyway."

Strongpaw weakly laughed at his joke, then meowed quickly, before he could walk away, "That looks like a pretty big squirrel. Do you want to share?"

"Uhhh..." Lionpaw paused for a minute, eyes unfocused as they gazed at the hopeful she-cat, "I...kind of already told Raintalon I'd share with her and Leopardbelly. We're having a bet to see who can eat their own section of the squirrel first, before the others. Loser has to talk during the vigil."

"Talk?" Strongpaw repeated, alarmed. "But that's against the warrior code!"

Liontail grinned at her. "Hey, it's okay. The not-speaking part of the vigil isn't half as important as the real vigil itself. Don't worry about it. You'll understand when you're a warrior."

With that, the golden warrior sauntered off, near the warriors' den, where, under the shade of the mighty oak, lay Ferretface, Raintalon, and Leopardbelly. Strongpaw's stomach growled, as if in protest. Strongpaw felt like growling herself, out of frustration and anger-who was Liontail, to accuse her of not understanding something simply because she wasn't a warrior? _Well, _Strongpaw thought bitterly, _I'll show him. I'll show them all, soon enough!_

But first, she had to find Snowfrost. She had to know the truth!

_-Chapter Twenty: Snowfrost's Story-_

_Left, right, left, right, _she chorused mentally, head swinging with each word, blue eyes scanning the camp. Liontail and his little..._friends_...were chattering like sparrows under an oak, and that little apprentice oddball, Strongpaw, was snouting around for something. The white warrior curled her lip in a snarl. Why did that snotty Fernlight have to name her kit something so brazen and pompous? It was ridiculous! She looked like she couldn't hurt a fly.

Snorting softly to herself, Snowfrost finally concluded that no one was on the lookout for anything secretive, and quietly padded over to the bush, where her secret lay, hidden-

"Snowfrost!"

Snowfrost froze, fur shooting up in unnattractive spikes in shock. She whipped around furiously, to see (ugh! Why _her_?) Strongpaw, eyes glimmering triumphantly. Snowfrost's lips twisted into a menacing snarl. "What," she hissed, "Do _you _want?"

I...I know," the apprentice puffed, obviously winded from having to chase after the snowy she-cat, "I know...about...Littlekit."

Snowfrost grew stiff, and even more frozen than before, eyes wide and icy, mouth gaping. "No...no, you don't," she stammered, shocked, then cursed her stupidity. Of course, she must know, the little snoop, because she knew Littlekit's name. "A-...and how do you know anyway?" she added accusingly, claws unsheathing.

Strongpaw glanced at the bush, then back at Snowfrost. "I met him," she said simply. "He somehow dragged me into that bush when I fainted...he talked to me, that's why I fainted in the first place."

Snowfrost shut her mouth abruptly, then cursed her kit's friendliness. "You better not tell a soul," she snarled, flashing her teeth. Strongpaw blinked, cocking her head.

"I won't," she assured the white warrior, "I just want to know _why_ you hid him from everyone, when you birthed him. Why is he stuck in that little bush when he could be out in the nursery, playing with the other kits?"

Snowfrost blinked a few times. "Kit?" she echoed, puzzled. "Littlekit is no kit, apprentice. He's only a few moons younger than you."

"Then why is his name still-"

"Because!" Snowfrost snapped, fur bristling, "He hasn't been made an apprentice. Yet. I'm going to reveal him to the Clan soon...just...not now."

"But why did you do this in the first place?" Strongheart persisted, fed up with the other cat's tight-lippedness.

Snowfrost sighed, shaking her head as if at the cream apprentice's ignorance. "I couldn't bear it," she mewed quietly. "I couldn't bear having a kit that was...smaller than the others. He was the runt of the litter. The rest-all three of them-died two and a half days after I birthed them...Rosekit, Dawnkit, and Smokekit. I was devastated, but I couldn't neglect my other kit. He was so tiny, I wasn't sure he would make it. He was also sick from the moment he was born. Sneezing and snuffling and whatnot. But...he did. I had birthed my litter alone-Gingertail had found me a good place-"

"Wait!" cried Strongpaw, shocked, "_Gingertail _was involved in it?"

"Yes. As was your mother, and Crowtail. Anyway, as I was saying, Gingertail found me this snug little hollow, and I kitted there, alone. I didn't want anyone else-besides the other queens-to know I had a bellyful of kits...especially the...father."

Strongpaw's eyes widened even more, and, overwhelmed with curiosity, her claws gauged scratches in the dry dirt. "What happened next? Who's the father?" she asked excitedly.

Snowfrost frowned, eyes cold. "I've told you enough. I-"

"Tell me!" the cream she-cat begged in a harsh yowl, baring her teeth. Though her stance and words were rather fierce, her eyes glittered with nothing but curiosity.

Snowfrost curled her lip again, furious. "Fine!" she spat, "You've driven me to telling you. _What _an accomplishment, scaring an older warrior into doing things with a sharp whine and a couple of unsheathed claws..._pitiful_. But...fine. The father was...was Quillfur."

Silence.

"It...it was just one time," Snowfrost added hastily. "It was a, a _fling_, if you will. I was desperate, you see. After Whitecloud left me for that Dawnfur, I was lonely, I had a litter squirming around in my belly, and Quillfur was so comforting, I just-"

"Okay, okay!" Strongpaw cried quickly, blushing. "I don't need the details. Um...but why didn't you want Quillfur to know about Littlekit? He's a nice tom."

Snowfrost sighed loudly again, as if not trusting Strongpaw to understand. "I was ashamed of it," she explained, "I didn't want to admit that I was carrying Quillfur's kits because it would damage my reputation. I mean, just _look _at him! So skinny, so scrawny, with barely a muscle on him, and too kind for his own good. Trust me, he's going to get really hurt someday." She snorted for emphasis.

Strongpaw resisted the urge to protest and bit her tongue as Snowfrost continued. "Plus, I knew Quillfur would want me to settle down with him if I told him about them. But I don't want to settle down, really-not quite yet. Honestly, that tom falls in love far too easily." Snowfrost rolled her ice-blue eyes.

Strongpaw opened her mouth to say something, but never got the chance. "Snowfrost!" yowled Stormclaw, "Come over here-you're going to help renew the scent markers on the RiverClan border! Snowfrost?"

The white warrior's eyes flicked over Strongpaw's head, then narrowed. "I must go," she hissed, shouldering past the cream-furred apprentice roughly. "Remember-do not tell a _soul _about what you have just heard. Not one. Not ever."

_-Chapter Twenty-One: Strongpaw's First Gathering-_

The Gathering was a time of peace for all Clans, and although they were enemies to one another every other day, all of them (besides ShadowClan, arguably) pulsed with warmth and greeting, for Rosestar was back from the ills at last!

Strongpaw couldn't stop smiling, mostly from Raintalon's infectious grin as she jabbered about her first Gathering as a warrior. "It'll be great," chattered Raintalon as she padded into Fourtrees, the rest of the chosen cats close behind. "I can show all the rest of the Clans my warrior name! And they'll be all like, 'Oh no! _Raintalon_, what a ferocious name!', and I'll be like, 'Yeah, so you better watch out, ShadowClan!'" She bared her teeth and growled for emphasis.

Strongpaw let out a _mrrow _of amusement, paws stumbling a little to avoid stepping on Poppypelt's tail. "Right," she joked, "They'll really be running from you! A new warrior over dozens of sagely ones? Please! You'd buckle in one blow."

"Silence, warriors," hissed Stormclaw loudly from the front of the clowder, "This is a time of peace, not battle. Bluestorm of RiverClan has informed me that Rosestar is well again. Show some respect for him, at least, if no one else."

Strongpaw, curiosity piqued at the voice of her father, glanced over the heads of various chosen cats to see Antstar, head down, moodily leading the ThunderClan cats to their traditional place in Fourtrees. She wondered why she looked so gloomy. Wasn't this a happy time, after all?

The wind was brisk, whipping the ears of all the felines at Fourtrees as they mingled, talked, and laughed together, Strongpaw included. She was talking to a young warrior named Fernpelt, of RiverClan, and an apprentice tabby cat named Cedarpaw, of ShadowClan.

"I'm going to get my final assessment tomorrow," boasted the young tom with a smirk, tail whisking about impudently. "Are _you_?"

Strongpaw was appalled at his cockiness, but didn't have an answer. "...No," she finally mewed, truthfully yet reluctantly, "Not yet."

"Hey, don't worry," meowed Fernpelt cheerfully, "You'll get it soon. I didn't get mine until I was training for _eight whole moons_! I was so embarrassed. My two brothers-they're over there, near one of the Fourtrees-would tease and tease me."

"Really?" asked Strongpaw hopefully, somewhat reassured, "Who are your brothers?"

"Oh, Sandclaw and Darktooth. Considerably less fiercer than their names, if you know what I mean!" Fernpelt laughed a belly laugh that could rival Rosestar's. Even Cedarpaw couldn't help but crack a lopsided grin.

"Well, I'd better get back to my own Clan," Strongpaw mewed, slightly reluctantly. "Goodbye, Fernpelt. Bye, Cedarpaw."

"Bye, Strongpaw!" cried Fernpelt, whiskers twitching with good humor.

"See you in battle," Cedarpaw added mischievously, tail lashing side to side.

Just as the cream-colored apprentice scrambled over to her sister in the ThunderClan area, Spiderstar, leader of WindClan, padded forward. "As you all should know," she began warmly, "RiverClan's leader, who has suffered from an unknown illness for the past seven moons, is finally back, and is ready to report about RiverClan as usual. In honor of this, Rosestar will report first."

Without further ado, the spindly tortoiseshell retreated, and a cheerfully plump, thick-furred, cream-colored tom stumbled forward, brown eyes twinkling with good humor.

"Well!" he began brightly with a small cough, "This is a nice bunch of felines right here, yessirree, quite a lovely bunch, even that ShadowClan over there-oh, don't be such a sourpuss, Nettlestar, it was just a joke, ho hee! StarClan knows, all of you look brighter than the moon, and the prey's running fine in RiverClan, yessiree, with the fine help of my deputy, Duskbreeze, yes, he did a wonderful job. We also have three new warriors of the late, ho ho! The newly named Moletalon, Silverwillow, and Shinewater, a lovely trio of fighters, yessir. Oh ho, not to mention, Whitelily has had her kits, three young ones named Shrewkit, Birdkit, and Mudkit, I'm sure they'll become great warriors, yes they will! And that is all, yes it is, thank you, thank you, all of you, for welcoming me in such a wonderful, honorable way, yes, even ShadowClan, ha ho!"

With that last rough chuckle, Rosestar beamed at the crowd of stunned cats, then leapt back, bowing his head goofily to the other leaders.

"Remind me why we made _him _leader?" hissed a she-cat with a groan. She was evidently talking, near Strongpaw, to a stripy tabby, her fishy breath wandering up the cream apprentice's nostrils. Strongpaw discreetly moved away from the RiverClan cats-only to bump into a (thankfully ThunderClan) tom.

"Hey, watch it!" snapped the warrior, amber eyes narrowed...and then widened. "Strongpaw?"

"Liontail!" Strongpaw gasped gratefully, then shut her mouth, remembering her earlier anger at his naivety.

Liontail looked at her curiously. "I didn't know you were here. Do you know where Leopardbelly is?"

"Oh," mumbled the cream apprentice, swallowing hard despite her fury, "She's...over there. Near Ivypelt."

"Okay." The golden warrior padded away. Strongpaw gritted her teeth, frustrated beyond belief. _Why couldn't he just understand? _she thought, agitated.

"...And that is all I have to report." Antstar bowed her head and stepped back, and Spiderstar, the last leader to report her Clan's ongoings, stepped forward again, her pretty dark green eyes uncharacteristically dark.

"Before I say anything else," the tortoiseshell she-cat meowed grimly, "I'd like to report that our medicine cat, Graylily, granted her apprentice her full name, along with a new task-but perhaps she'd like to say this herself. Olivesong, please come and address the Clans for what you'd like to pronounce."

To all the Clans' surprise, WindClan's medicine cat, the one formerly known as Olivepaw, padded, head low, to the top of where her leader stood. When her head moved higher, her usually sparkling eyes were dull, her voice monotone as she said, "Unfortunately, my former mentor, Graylily...couldn't be here tonight, so I have temporarily taken her place in this matter. My new name, Olivesong, also brings with it a proposal that is less than happy, but vital to WindClan's survival. Most of WindClan is sick now, including queens and kits, and we are in deadly need of herbs. Now that leaf-bare is nearly upon us, it is imperative that we have enough to cure our warriors. So, here is my proposal: either the other Clans contribute enough herbs for WindClan to survive...or we will fight for them. Choose well, Clans, or it might just be the last decision you'll ever make."

With that, Olivesong padded softly back to her spot with WindClan, her pawsteps seeming to echo, it was so silent.

The leaders-besides Spiderstar-seemed shocked beyond belief. Their Clans were the same way, each pelt bristling and eye wide. Antstar's eyes were cold as she calculated their options. Nettlestar's teeth were bared. Rosestar was grinning uncertainly, eyes fearful. The medicine cat's proposal had clearly shaken every other feline at Fourtrees.

_-Chapter Twenty-Two: Meanwhile, Amongst the Stars of Silverpelt...-_

_"And just to think," _ _sighed Dapplespots sadly, "This is only the beginning. Those poor, poor dears." _

_"WindClan shouldn't be so bossy," squeaked Dawnkit as she tussled with her sister, Rosekit. _

_"Yeah!" added their brother, Smokekit, his little gray tail curled around his haunches indignantly. "Those mangy crowfood-eaters!" _

_"Don't be rude, kits," scolded Mousetail, "WindClan is an honest Clan, and I'm sure Spiderstar is a good leader. She's just doing what's supposed to do, although I'm afraid I think Whitestar could have done better..." _

_"Thank you!" huffed a burly white tom from seemingly nowhere, "It's about time I received some compliments for my reign! It isn't easy being leader, you know!"_

_"Whatever," growled Smokekit moodily, flicking his tail._

_"Oh, and will somebody shut Shrewshine and Hareleap up? They're talking my ears off! It's a wonder someone didn't kill them sooner!" shrieked Flamebreeze hysterically, also from nowhere. _

_"Hey, I died from snakebite, not murder!"_

_"Yes you did, Shrewshine-that snake just couldn't stand you!"_

_"Why, you little..." _

_"Shrewshine! Hareleap!" barked Dapplespots sharply, "No fighting amongst ourselves, please. The other Clans will have to deal with enough below, in time." _

_"So you know what choice they're going to make?" asked Sparrowsong grimly as she padded up to where the old elder was sitting. Dapplespots sighed, eyes wise. _

_"Yes," she murmured, "And believe me when I say that it will not be pretty. Not in the very, very least." _

_-Chapter Twenty-Three: Three New Apprentices-_

The wind was chilly, whistling through the brittle branches of the now bare trees in ThunderClan territory, and tinging every ThunderClan cat's heart with icy fear.

That is, except the courageous Antstar's. She stood strong on the Highrock as she called to her warriors.

"All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

Immediately, cats flocked beneath the Highrock, gazes wild with either fear, disbelief, or anger.

"They can't do this!" snarled Whitecloud, raking the air with his sharp claws. The cats around him shifted away uneasily. Antstar gazed down at her Clan calmly.

"They can, and they will," she meowed serenely, fur ruffling in the icy wind. "But we will not take this lightly, my warriors. Yes, we could give them the herbs they need...yet that would diminish _our_ herbs' number greatly. And who's to say the sickness that has terrorized WindClan won't catch on in ThunderClan?"

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Nightshine and Hareheart shot terrified looks at each other, fur prickling.

"Though I'm sure the other Clans are considering the same thing," Antstar continued, "Surely one of them will contribute some herbs to WindClan. But-just in case they don't-we will have to go to the extremes...including-" Here her eyes gleamed- "making some kits apprentices."

"_Yes_! Yes yes yes yes _yes_!" squealed three high-pitched voices-Goldenkit, Weaselkit, and Goosekit. The three younglings tumbled excitedly beneath the Highrock, ignoring the frantic calls of their mother, Sparrowfeather.

"Let them go," Lionclaw murmured to his mate with a soft _mrrow_, "You only get to live once, you know."

"Goldenkit," began ThunderClan's leader, "You have reached the age of six moons, and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Goldenpaw. Your mentor will be Icefern. I hope Icefern will pass down all he knows to you."

The white tom stepped forward, smiling at the little she-cat, now his apprentice.

"Icefern, you are ready to take on yet another apprentice. You have received excellent training from Snowtooth, StarClan rest his soul, and you have shown yourself to be wise and courageous. You will be the mentor of Goldenpaw, and I expect you to pass on all you know to her, young as she is."

Icefern and Goldenpaw touched noses respectfully, and then the two retreated into the crowd, with the warriors of ThunderClan crying, "Goldenpaw! Goldenpaw! Goldenpaw!"

And so the ceremonies commenced. Weaselkit became Weaselpaw, and Goosekit became Goosepaw. Goosepaw's mentor was Poppypelt, and Weaselpaw's was Crowtail. The new mentors and apprentices walked back into the crowd, Goldenpaw, Goosepaw, and Weaselpaw's heads and tails held high as they basked in the glow of the Clan's happiness.

Later that night, when Antstar was looking out at the stars, she scented Stormclaw in the wind, and said with a soft sigh to her deputy, "Oh, Stormclaw. What do you want now?"

The bluish gray tom crept up next to her, on a flat, stubby rock near her den that Antstar had taken a liking to, and mewed, "I was just thinking about the ceremonies of those kits, and WindClan's threat. Do you really think apprenticing Sparrowfeather's young will help, Antstar?"

The small brown she-cat didn't answer, just kept staring at the stars, gray-blue eyes reflecting the starlight stuck in the sky.

"Antstar," persisted Stormclaw softly, "They're underage."

Still nothing.

"Only four moons, Antstar. Doesn't that concern you at all? It's a miracle from StarClan that Sparrowfeather didn't notice! But, then again, WindClan's threat was a bit distracting...yet still, Antstar! Doesn't this _worry _you, even in the slightest?"

Not even this conjured a response from ThunderClan's loyal leader.

"And you!" continued the deputy frustratedly, "You're more fragile than you realize. You lost your seventh life due to _stress_, for StarClan's sake! Tell me, what does that tell you about yourself?"

No answer.

"_Tell me_!" Stormclaw yowled, anger spilling over. "Tell me, you frustrating old she-cat! Why won't you _listen _to me?!"

Antstar jerked her chin up defiantly, but didn't say a word. With a growl of fury, Stormclaw leapt up on his hind legs, stumbled forward, clasped his paws to Antstar's cheeks, and turned her smushed face towards his own. His eyes glared angrily into her blank ones as he hissed, "I'm always cleaning up your messes, Antstar. When you went into depression, when you refused to eat your meals, when you didn't listen to anyone. I begged you to reform, to be the old Antstar, who was proud, good, and strong. Instead I had this kit-like weakling to take care-"

With a roar that shook the tree branches, Antstar raised a paw and cuffed her deputy, hard. Startled, the blue-gray tom stumbled backward, tripped over his hind paws, and fell in a twisted sort of somersault over the rock, landing with a soft thump and a small groan of pain below. Antstar's eyes glowed with a newfound ferocity as she snarled, enraged, "_Don't you dare call me weak_!"

Stormclaw struggled to his paws, panting from the blow. "Antstar!" he cried, leaping onto the rock, and, to the little brown she-cat's surprise, rubbed his nose deeply with hers in a shockingly warm nuzzle. "You're back," he whispered, eyes glimmering with happiness. "Oh, Antstar. You're _back_."

_-Chapter Twenty-Four: Goldenpaw, Goosepaw, and Weaselpaw- _

"Back!"

Strongpaw leapt back, tail swishing, paws tense as she cuffed the constantly moving figure that darted in a blurry streak to the left, to the right-to the-

"Forward! Quick, catch 'er in the tail! Remember, _balance the weight_!"

With a grunt of effort, the cream apprentice lunged forward, paw thrusted in front of her as her unsheathed claws hooked onto the enemy's tail. Grinning despite her tiredness, Strongpaw limped forward a little to keep up with the struggling victim, trying to quickly get a better grip on her tail fur as she thrashed and squirmed. Loosening her claws a little in order to get a better hook, Strongpaw flexed them, ready to dig in-but not before Goldenpaw leapt away, hurtling into the dust in repeated somersaults, the power of her escape tactic was so strong. Despite her failure, Strongpaw couldn't help but let out a _mrrow _of amusement...but her glee was quickly vanquished by Blossompelt's stern look as she walked up to her apprentice.

"What," she mewed with a sigh, "was _that_? Strongpaw, I'm sorry, but that was just _sloppy_. You could've easily pulled Goldenpaw back. You didn't even need all the time she gave you. Really, Strongpaw, you've had moons and moons of training! If you want to be a warrior, you've got to learn to _apply _yourself."

Strongpaw clenched her teeth as Goldenpaw picked herself up from the ground, paws scuffing the dirt moodily. "But it's not fair," she mewed, hating how whiny her voice was, yet still persisting. "Why should I try if I'll just be denied my warrior ceremony again and again?"

Blossompelt shook her head in disbelief, eyes cold. "You'll learn that when you _are _a warrior! Strongpaw, being a warrior isn't all skills and codes. You have to believe you can do it, have faith in yourself and your warrior ancestors, and _keep on trying_. StarClan knows what happened to that cheerful young apprentice on her first hunting patrol, without a mentor yet still willing to learn..."

Still grumbling to herself, Blossompelt padded back to where the other mentors-Crowtail, Poppypelt, and Icefern-were sitting, under the shade of a weeping willow. Strongpaw couldn't help but notice the gleaming frost giving off a frozen sheen at the very tips of the willow's leaves. She shivered as a cold wind ruffled the fur on her chest and belly. The ground was so cold, and the grass that had so alluringly glowed with warmth in greenleaf was dead and brittle, not to mention practically nonexistent. The cream apprentice wondered why it didn't snow already-at least then the training sessions might be a little shorter due to the weather.

"Already tired?" asked Goldenpaw sympathetically, falling alongside Strongpaw as they walked toward Goosepaw and Weaselpaw. Strongpaw grunted grumpily in return. "I feel your pain," the golden she-cat continued, "This weather is killing me! I feel like my whiskers should be icicles by now."

"Mmm." Strongpaw didn't feel like making friends. She had felt grumpy ever since, just a few hours after Weaselpaw, Goldenpaw, and Goosepaw had been apprenticed, Liontail had been seen by Raintalon brushing against Leopardbelly in a definitely more-than-friends way, a fact that burned Strongpaw up more than anything. She had been trying for countless moons to get that golden tom's attention, not Leopardbelly! She had sat on her haunches slurping mouse tails and whining about Ivypelt all those moons...so why had Liontail fallen for her?

Still fuming, Strongpaw stomped past Goosepaw and Weaselpaw, Goldenpaw (annoyingly enough) still by her side. Goosepaw glared at their backs angrily, Weaselpaw following suit. The gray-speckled new apprentice sneered at the pair. "Hey, Strong_kit_," insulted Goosepaw rudely, "Excited for your apprentice ceremony? Maybe then you'll stop acting like such a mousebrained newborn!"

"Be quiet, Goosepaw," snapped Goldenpaw, whipping her head around to glare at her brothers, "That's not fair and you know it."

"How is it unfair?" Goosepaw argued, yellow eyes glittering mean-spiritedly. "It's _her _fault she's not a warrior."

"Apprentices!" boomed Poppypelt sternly, "No fighting. Now come along-we're going hunting."

Goosepaw shouldered past Strongpaw, tail lashing at her nose, making her sneeze. Weaselpaw followed close behind, never fewer than four pawsteps behind his littermate. Strongpaw felt like screaming, she was so frustrated. Was _nothing _going to go right in her life? Was she forever destined to fall behind, in training, warriorhood, friends, and love? As she trudged behind Goldenpaw's snickering littermates, it sure seemed that way.

All eight cats were in a clearing in the forest, free from any thick tree roots or troublesome low-hanging tree leaves. It was a place where apprentices and their warriors could train in peace and quiet, and it was where Strongpaw was watching Poppypelt, Icefern, and Crowtail practice hunting techniques on a little moss ball, which they pretended was a juicy bit of prey.

"Okay. First up, Goosepaw," Icefern ordered. The gray-speckled apprentice stepped forward, yellow eyes unreadable. Was he worried, Strongpaw wondered sarcastically, or annoyingly confident? Most likely the latter, she decided bitterly as Icefern demonstrated for Sparrowfeather's kits how to do a proper hunting crouch.

Poppypelt, being the oldest warrior there, inspected the new apprentices' crouches. "Little wobbly, Goosepaw. Keep your tail low, Goldenpaw! Weaselpaw..." The orange warrior heaved a gusty sigh, then painstakingly adjusted Weaselpaw's legs with a gentle clench of the teeth, and quickly shoved his flanks down with a swipe of a paw. "There," Poppypelt mewed, satisfied. "Now, _pounce_!"

All three of the new apprentices leapt, claws outstretched in a slightly wobbly way as they collided with the dirt in an ungraceful tangle, tails whisking irritably as they complained. "Oww!" groaned Goldenpaw, wriggling her flanks from underneath Goosepaw's hind legs. "Weaselpaw, you're crushing my tail!"

"Well, _you're _crushing my _face_!" complained the little cat in a muffled-yet still annoyingly whiny-mew.

Strongpaw lapped at her paw to rid it of the dust that had sprung onto it from the other apprentices' collapse, stifling a smile. Out of the corner of her blue eyes, she could just see Icefern and Crowtail give each other amused glances. Poppypelt sighed, shaking her head. "Let's try it again," she suggested, "Only this time, one apprentice at a time. Strongpaw, why don't you get off your lazy rump and show them how it's done."

Reluctantly, Strongpaw lurched to her paws and padded over to the center of the area, resisting the urge to smirk at the untangling Goosepaw and Weaselpaw. _Ha! _she thought smugly, _They couldn't do a good hunters' crouch to save their lives. _

Taking a slightly exaggerated deep breath, Strongpaw slowly lowered herself into a crouch, tail fur _just _scraping the dirt. Her eyes stuck onto the moss ball "prey", the cream-colored apprentice crept forward a little, just enough to entirely focus on the moss ball in front of her. She tensed her muscles, held her breath, and leapt.

Strongpaw flew through the air, paws stretched in front of her, her body arcing through the air in a way that could only be described as flawless. Her ears were swiveling automatically, cupping the cool afternoon chill as it ruffled her ear fur. Then, finally, she landed, while her hind paws cupped the dirt...her front paws cradling the moss ball.

Blossompelt smiled. "There might be some hope for her yet," she mumbled to the other mentors. They nodded, impressed.

Strongpaw flung her head over her shoulder to look at the other apprentices, grinning breathlessly. Goldenpaw was smiling, and looked on the brink of cheering. Goosepaw and Weaselpaw's mouths were agape, and their eyes-one pair yellow, one pair brown-were wide as the moon.

"Beat that," she muttered mockingly as she passed the two gawking toms. They just blinked in response.

Strongpaw smiled.

_-Chapter Twenty-Five: Frosty-_

The day Littlekit was revealed to ThunderClan was a frosty one. The ground was slippery with a frozen glaze that covered the dirt, and snowflakes were caught in the tree branches' pitifully weak, thin, scraggly leaves. Snowfrost knew what she was about to do was the right thing, despite her worries. She had already worked out what she was going to say: that Littlekit was Liontail's younger brother. The white warrior hadn't worked out all the kinks yet-there would still be questions, like who the father was and why he had been hidden so long, but Snowfrost chose not to think of that as she bundled the shivering kit in her jaws, his trembling breaths puffing into white little mist clouds in the cold. He was asleep, thank StarClan-his endless chatter would most certainly unnerve Antstar, fragile as she acted these days.

As she led the little bundle of fur out into the blustery, windy world of ThunderClan, she prayed to StarClan that they would accept him. She prayed, prayed, prayed...

_-Chapter Twenty-Six: A Revelation and a Careless Promise-_

The moment Strongpaw saw the look in Snowfrost's icy blue eyes as she trudged into the center of the slushy campground, she knew what the white warrior was going to do. And she was glad for it.

Strongpaw was chewing a particularly tough shrew near the warriors' den, trying desperately to ignore Leopardbelly and Liontail's constant _mrrows _of laughter as they enjoyed each other's company, under the mighty oak nearby. She could hear them purring as they shared an adder... Strongpaw's claws unleashed themselves, scratching violent gauges into the dirt, temporarily forgetting all about Snowfrost and Littlekit as she stewed in her own anger.

"What's with you?"

Strongpaw jumped, unaware that anybody had approached her. She glanced up, eyes narrowing as Goosepaw and Weaselpaw looked back. "What do _you _want?" she hissed, blue eyes flashing. "To make fun of me more? Make me feel like the worst cat in all the Clans, as worthless as a rogue? Well, feel free! Surely it can't get any worse than it is now." She buried her head in her paws hopelessly.

Silence. Then-

"We...we just wanted to talk to you about your hunters' crouch," meowed Goosekit, scuffing one gray-speckled paw in the dirt awkwardly, "That was really impressive. I've never seen Rainpaw or Ferretface or any of the others do _that_ before. I mean, _ever_."

Strongpaw looked up at them to see if they were serious. Both their faces were earnest. They were totally in awe her...and of her ability. She grinned sneakily. This could be a wonderful opportunity to get back at them for their snide comments and brutal jabs at how old she was to be an apprentice.

"Teach us?" Weaselpaw mewed hopefully, eagerly. His eyes glistened with rapture. His smile expanded-both of theirs did-when she smiled crookedly back at them.

"Sure," she mewed, a little indifferently, "I'll show you. It takes a lot of skill, but, I think you'll get it...in a few moons."

Before the two excited toms could say another word, Antstar called from the top of the Highrock, "All cats old enough to catch their own prey gather beneath the Highrock for a Clan meeting!"

"See you, boys," Strongpaw mewed with a smirk as she padded towards the clowder of cats heading toward the Highrock, but her cocky grin vanished when Leopardbelly and Liontail walked, side-by-side, in front of her, tails entwining as they giggled to each other, as if sharing a priceless secret. Envy throbbed inside Strongpaw's belly, making her feel sick. _Why her? Why not me? _

The Highrock was so glazed over with icy frost that Antstar almost lost her grip and tumbled off it, eventually having to resort to an undignified but useful scramble up the large rock, finally settling into her usual sitting position in an only slightly icy nook, tail curled around her auburn paws daintily. "Snowfrost has just revealed to me something that will be a great advantage to ThunderClan's outlook on how the WindClan battle will go on," she mewed warmly, eyes shining. "Snowfrost? Would you care to introduce our newest member of ThunderClan?"

Snowfrost, who was standing just beneath the Highrock, nodded solemnly, and withdrew her head to bend down over her snowy white shoulder. When the white warrior drew her head back, in her jaws was a sleeping black-and-white kit.

The air seemed to be sucked out of everyone's lungs, it was so quiet-save for Hareheart's embarrassingly loud, positively gleeful exclamation of "Oh! A _kit_!"

Finally, the elder Trembletail called out crankily, "Whose kit is it? Don't tell me it's yours, Snowfrost!"

Strongpaw-along with the others-waited with bated breath for the white warrior's answer. The cream apprentice knew the truth-she just wasn't sure Snowfrost would tell the Clan it. The silence continued as the white warrior carefully dropped the black-and-white furball to the ground, huddling him near her belly to keep him warm. Then Snowfrost turned her head back up, toward the sea of eyes staring challengingly at her.

"He's not Clanborn," Snowfrost answered loudly, eyes unreadable. "I found him-abandoned-near that big clump of dusty old rocks near the RiverClan border."

"We really need to find a good name for that spot," grumbled Whitefoot to the other elders, "The rocks are so good for sunning it's a shame we can't find a suitable name for it." The others nodded sympathetically in agreement.

"But what if the mother comes looking for it?" yelled Dawnfur, dark green eyes glowing with scrutiny for the little bundle of black-and-white fur. "We don't need to battle a fully grown rogue for _that_ little scrap, surely."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Strongpaw heard Liontail whisper something in Leopardbelly's ear, and the ebony warrior let out a soft _mrrow_. The cream-furred apprentice felt her belly clench, and she gritted her teeth, laying her ears back to block their stupid little lovey-dovey meows.

"Now, now. Settle down," barked Antstar sternly. "We don't even know if this kit's parents _are _rogues. No need to jump to conclusions."

"But what if its parents are _kittypets_?!" yelped Gingertail with a hiss of disdain, ginger fur bristling. The muttery meows of the Clan grew into an all-out roar. Strongpaw could see Snowfrost's watery blue eyes dart back and forth wildly. She obviously had not expected this to happen.

_Serves you right for lying, _Strongpaw thought sourly with a disapproving frown. _Honestly, Snowfrost, why couldn't you just tell the truth? _

"Wait!" yowled Lionclaw from the very back of the crowd, "What was the kit's scent, Snowfrost? Rogue, kittypet? It might be one of the other Clans'!"

"Yes! Yes, it just might be!" Burrpelt added thoughtfully, hopping in one place. "Tell us, Snowfrost! Was it from WindClan?"

"Oh, the irony!" wailed Duskyfoot dramatically, flinging her head back in anguish as she howled, "The terrible, horrible sense of downright _irony_! StarClan, have you no _pity_?!"

All of ThunderClan-including Antstar-turned to stare strangely at Fernlight's only littermate. Pausing her dramatic act, Duskyfoot smiled, embarrassed. "Er...Dawnfur and I are practicing for WindClan's battle. Deceiving the other Clans with false behaviors is a very useful skill," she muttered shyly.

Silence.

After a moment, Antstar cleared her throat and announced, "Snowfrost has admitted to me that there was no scent on the kit you see before you. We have concluded it was a loner's who left it because of its...unusual size, and washed off his scent in the river."

"I don't blame her," murmured Whitecloud to Poppypelt, "That kit's so runty, it must not be any bigger than a fattened mouse!"

"Shush up, Whitecloud," hissed Blossompelt to the pale-furred warrior, "Show some respect. Why, when you were a kit you were no bigger than a water vole, and no cat made fun of you."

Close behind Strongpaw, Weaselpaw snickered. She inched away from him slowly, wishing Antstar would wrap up the meeting already. Her paws were getting stiff from standing there so long, not to mention practically frozen from standing on icy ground.

"In order to determine how old this kit is," Antstar continued, "Nightshine, our loyal medicine cat, along with her 'partner', Hareheart, will perform a thorough examination of his teeth this evening. He will sleep in the nursery with Snowfrost tonight, and in the morning we will determine where exactly he belongs. This is my final word on the matter, and hopefully all of you will understand my decision in time. I hope all of you will be more sympathetic of this motherless kit tomorrow. That is all."

On that sharp-worded note, Antstar promptly leapt off the Highrock and strode into her den, with a brief nod at Snowfrost, who picked up Littlekit and padded toward the medicine cat den, where Nightshine was waiting.

Strongpaw trudged back to her shrew, looking at its half-eaten body that had looked so tempting before. Now it just looked unappetizing. With a soft sigh, the cream-furred apprentice picked it up by its one remaining talon...and almost ran straight into Goosepaw and Weaselpaw. The two apprentice toms were grinning from ear to ear. "So, are we going to start practicing that awesome hunters' crouch tomorrow?" asked Goosepaw eagerly, bouncing in place with excitement.

Strongpaw's eyes dulled a bit. She wasn't in the mood for those two, not right then. "Maybe," she hinted vaguely through a mouthful of shrew talon.

"Are you going to eat that?" asked Weaselpaw suddenly, intently gazing at the half-eaten fresh-kill. "I love shrew."

"Fine. You can have it."

Strongpaw left the two to their meal, padded into the apprentices' den, where Goldenpaw was already sleeping, circled around her nest thrice, and settled into it comfortably. Her eyelids sagged as she dropped her head to her paws, and gradually fell asleep.

The only time she woke was when two apprentice-sized furballs snuggled up next to her, questionably close. But she just flicked an ear in response. She was too sleepy to care.

_-Chapter Twenty-Seven: Littlepaw in ThunderClan-_

"Isn't this fun? I've never been an apprentice before. Do you think Stormclaw will like me? Is he nice? Do you like him? Is he a good deputy? I've heard of deputies from Snowfrost, but I've never met one. And all the warriors! They're so many. I don't think I'll ever remember all those names. Have you memorized all of them, Strongpaw? Huh? Have you? ...Strongpaw?"

Littlekit-now Littlepaw-had just had his apprentice ceremony yesterday, when Nightshine had declared that he was about seven or eight moons of age, and he had been relentlessly pestering Strongpaw about his new mentor, Stormclaw, and basically everything else, all morning. The cream apprentice felt like tearing her fur out with irritation. _Doesn't this cat ever shut up?! _she wondered as she pawed at her breakfast, a large squirrel. Littlepaw was beside her, a fat mouse between his paws.

"And when I go on a hunting patrol I'll catch a _huge _fox and have to get at _least _four more warriors to help me carry it back to ThunderClan camp..." the little apprentice babbled excitedly, tearing a mouthful of furry flesh from his mouse.

Suddenly, two shadows fell across the apprentices. Strongpaw looked up, blue eyes narrowed, to see-of course-Goosepaw and Weaselpaw. They sneered down at the black-patched Littlepaw, eyes glinting. "Yeah," snickered Weaselpaw with a flick of his tail, "Because you're so tiny you'll need help to drag a fox in-not that you ever will, outsider."

"Hey," snapped Strongpaw automatically, lips pulling back in a snarl, "Don't be such a mousebrain, Weaselpaw. Like _you'd _be able to pull in a fox all by yourself! With those skinny little legs? Not a chance."

The two insulting toms were quiet for a minute, until Goosepaw sputtered, "You know what? Whatever! You...you still have t-to teach us that move, you know, Strongpaw. Don't you th-think of getting o-out of it!"

They bolted hastily away. Strongpaw looked at the receding figures strangely. They had gone away more quickly than usual. Did she really have them that much under her paw? As she ducked her head down to scoop up a mouthful of squirrel, the cream apprentice couldn't help but think that maybe things were looking up.

"Who are those other warriors over there?" Littlepaw asked suddenly, glancing at the clump of felines lazing around by the medicine cats' den-Leopardbelly, Raintalon, and the rest of their _gang_, Strongpaw noticed bitterly.

"Oh, them?" she replied carelessly, "Just new warriors. Nothing special. Why'd you ask?"

Littlepaw cocked his head slightly, then turned his gaze back to Strongpaw. "Maybe it'd be a good idea to ask them about what being a warrior is like," he remarked thoughtfully, tail twitching. Strongpaw couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at this comment-not because it was even more annoying than most of Littlepaw's questions and general talk, but because it was _good_. Smart, even. Maybe this tiny apprentice was using his head for more than having something to stick a mouth onto after all.

"Eh. The elders are better for that sort of thing," Strongpaw lied, getting to her paws and shaking her pelt as a force of habit. Littlepaw watched her with wide eyes.

"Elders? Okay!" the little black-patched apprentice chirped cheerfully, and scrambled away, toward the elders' den-and then scrambled back. "What are elders?" he asked curiously.

Strongpaw resisted the urge to sigh.

_-Chapter Twenty-Eight: Olivesong's Abrupt and Unexpected Leave (A.K.A. A Very Boring Chapter)-_

The half-moon shone brighter than ever as Hareheart and Nightshine made their way to the Mothermouth, tails waving as they darted through RiverClan territory. Their paws padded softly through the land, weaving past flimsy reeds on the riverbank and hopping nimbly over slimy fish scales scattered across the smooth dirt ground. Hareheart held his breath, trying desperately to avoid inhaling RiverClan's pungent, stinky stench.

As usual, Bluestorm and Reedpaw fell into step beside them as they crossed the border, eyes glinting solely on the invisible path that they knew so well in front of them. Not a word was spoken, like usual, and the four felines' pawsteps were barely heard in the quiet silence of the night that was only broken by the sweet chirps of the hidden crickets.

When the medicine cats (and one apprentice) arrived at the intimidating Mothermouth, Olivesong was already there. The four nodded respectfully to her, in honor of her absent mentor. The beautiful gray medicine cat hadn't been ill or occupied while the last Gathering had gone on, as Nightshine had told Hareheart quietly after the event-she had gone off, run away. Again.

"Well," muttered Foxpaw as he and Blackfeather trotted up to the group of felines, "I suppose we'd better get going. The night won't last forever, you know."

Olivesong nodded, eyes dull-but no cat made a move.

Until Bluestorm stepped forward, and spoke. "Listen, Olivesong," he rumbled in a deep mew, "Just because WindClan warriors are...feuding against the rest of the Clans does not mean us medicine cats are supposed to feel any inclination to feud against other medicine cats. We are all healers, are we not? All striving to help our Clans through the seasons, all looking toward StarClan to find answers that are sometimes nonexistent. Sometimes, it may feel like there's no hope for us-for _any _of us-if we stand alone. Yet sometimes it feels like we'd tear each other apart if we stick together. But even so, we carry on-as Clans. Seperate Clans, yes, but still _Clans_. Although our warriors may not have realized this yet, we can choose by our instincts-what we think is right. And does that really mean warring about something that will spill more blood than save?"

Silence.

Then Nightshine sighed, her voice weary as she meowed, "Bluestorm is right. Medicine cats have their own code for a reason-to look aside from a warrior code full of blood and violence, tooth and claw. As medicine cats-as healers of our Clans-we will have to look to the side of reason that StarClan gifts every cat, not our claws and teeth. I propose, when we all go back to our own territories, we talk to our leaders."

"About what?" asked Foxpaw crossly, "That we're going to give WindClan herbs freely, so that when they attack us moons later they'll be more likely to get right back up and attack our faces again after being injured? Not a chance. Count ShadowClan out."

"But you don't know how bad it is!" screeched Olivesong suddenly, enraged. "We're dying, Foxpaw. All of us. Snowkit and Thorntooth died today. Blackpelt, Shrewfoot, and Sageflower are dying as we speak. I left Almondeye and Mossfoot in charge, but..." Instantly her eyes grew narrow. "I must go. One of you will have to ask a WindClan medicine cat for help. _I must leave_."

With a sharp swish of a tail and a flash of a nod, she was gone. The other medicine cats stared stupidly after her.

"What...what just happened?" Hareheart spluttered, blinking. "Did...did she just ask one of _us _to fetch a medicine cat for her? But...how does that even _work_?"

Blackfeather shook his head, ebony pelt shimmering in the moonlight. His eyes flashed. "She was not thinking clearly," he hissed venemously, "Probably too herb-addled."

"But we can't just ignore WindClan's medicine cat's request," Reedpaw mewed sensibly. "I say someone does it. How hard can it be? StarClan's all one Clan anyway. If we just ask for a WindClan medicine cat, one will come. Right?"

"But what if they don't believe us?" murmured Nightshine worriedly, "Just because they're StarClan warriors doesn't mean they are suddenly wise and noble. WindClan might not believe a cat that's not from their own. But if we have to, I think it should be a fully fledged medicine cat-not an apprentice. One that will be able to accept the challenge that this task brings, but won't be lenient about how it is told-and will be respectful to the WindClan medicine cat, and _not _judge him or her because of his or her Clan." At the last sentence the ebony she-cat shot a sideways glance at Foxpaw and Blackfeather, who both scowled simultaneously.

Bluestorm stared off into the steadily graying horizon, thinking. Blackfeather glared at the whole clowder. Hareheart looked at Nightshine curiously. She looked melancholy, exhausted, as if one more second of this and her legs would buckle beneath her. The light brown tom nudged her left shoulder blade comfortingly. She smiled vaguely at him, eyes gazed with tiredness. For the first time Hareheart wondered how old she was.

"I vote myself," Bluestorm meowed suddenly. The rest of the cats stared at the thickly furred tom. He stared defiantly back at them. "What?" he rumbled. "I'm the oldest cat here. I've been chief medicine cat since Rocktail, and he was older than the the river. They won't disrespect me-at least, if they know what's good for them."

Nightshine nodded reasonably, Hareheart doing the same. "I think that's a wonderful idea," Nightshine meowed.

"Yes," chimed in Reedpaw with a little bounce of excitement, "An excellent idea. Don't you agree?"

Foxpaw's lips curled into a sneer, but he stayed silent. Blackfeather spat distastefully at the ground, but said nothing.

"So it's settled, then," pronounced Nightshine bossily, "Bluestorm will be the one to relay Olivesong's message to a WindClan medicine cat. Reedpaw, you will take his place as the medicine cat to talk to RiverClan while your mentor is busy. Is that fair?" All the cats (save for Blackfeather and Foxpaw) nodded, Hareheart looking troublingly at the now pinking sky.

"I don't think we'll have enough time to meet with StarClan tonight," the light brown tom sighed sadly. Bluestorm looked aghast.

"What?!" he roared. The other cats felt the ground rumble with vibrations from the RiverClan cat's terror-inducing cry. "Not being able to have enough time, my _tail_! If we go in quickly, perhaps-"

Reedpaw nudged his mentor uncomfortably. "Um," the glossy, groomed RiverClan medicine cat meowed, "Bluestorm, maybe it's for the best. The next meeting will flow smoother than the river on a nice still night, since we now know the plan. Okay?"

Bluestorm took a deep breath, inflated chest laying down their sticking-out strands of blue-gray fur as he coughed with a rough "harrumph". "I suppose you're right," the old cat muttered to his apprentice, "You have learned well, Reedpaw." Reedpaw beamed.

And so the healers of the Clans journeyed back to their respective territories, just as the sun drew up from its nightly perch, its glow weak and sputtery as frosty flakes of white poured down from the red-streaked sky in a flurry of ice and snow.

_-Chapter Twenty-Nine: An Old Cat's Reminisce-_

Trembletail gazed out of the elders' den. Her vision was fuzzy-she couldn't see as well as she used to. But then, that might also be because of the disease tickling her insides, teasing her mind with its pretty symptons. Like an apprentice showing off her first caught piece of prey, a cat playing with a mouse, Trembletail thought, staring out at the whiteness of leaf-bare at its fullest.

Sticky soft flakes clung to her whiskers as Trembletail walked stiffly outside. The cool chill felt nice on her fur. It was stuffy in the elders' den. The old she-cat opened her mouth slightly, enjoying the taste of leaf-bare on her tongue and the deliciously cold feel of chilled air shooting down her gullet, freezing anything it hit as it cascaded into her stomach...and then flipped out in a warm blast. Trembletail wished the feeling, the cool, sweet air, would stay in her belly. Maybe then she wouldn't feel so...wrong.

Her legs felt wrong, like sticks and like tree trunks, brittle one moment and thick and clumsy the next. Her ears felt like they were hearing too much. The fresh-kill tasted too hot, the prey's blood bursting thickly in her throat. It left a sourness in her belly. Her head hurt.

Trembletail wished the icy winds would whisk the hotness off her fur. She didn't want to go to the medicine cat. Nightshine and her apprentice, Harepaw, were too pokish and proddy. They talked loud in her ears and gave her bad medicines to eat or drink. She knew Nightshine was a good cat, but Harepaw was one o' those youngsters who were too naive for the job.

"Cats _die_," Trembletail muttered aloud to the snowflakes gliding steadily down to the dirt below. "It's not a job for silly old kits lookin' for a bit of an education, or whatever kits do these days. And Sparrowfeather's kits! Rambunctious little rascals. Why, in my day, kits were brought up properly. I _respected _Dapplespots, Longear, and even old Ambereye. Sweet old cats, those elders were. Once I got to know them."

The wind blew the fur on Trembletail's cheeks back forcefully. Her whiskers waved in the wind. She shivered, then told the blustery bout of bountiful breezes mightily, "I'm not afraid of you. You're just a storm waiting to happen, aren't you? But I'm not. I've waited forever. I'm old and tired of sleeping and eating and drinking. I've seen enough generations of fine warriors, and, yes, a few medicine cats once in a while...but I think I've seen enough, wind. Take me away on your blusters so that I may know peace. Please."

Trembletail stared unwaveringly at the chilly drafts of air whirling around her, and paused, blinking. "But I'm not sure I'm ready to see my son again," she muttered, then, eyes widening, gave a sprightly little laugh of surprise. "And my mate," she added, chuckling. "Hoo! I'd almost forgotten my dear old Graypelt. What I wouldn't give to be with you two toms-my Graypelt and Flamebreeze, my lovely, brave warriors."

The old elder smiled in her crooked sort of way and meowed, voice cracking slightly, "I remember my warrior ceremony. Graypelt looked so handsome, and Whitefoot so pretty. Shadestripe, Almondfur, and Sweetface were lovely, too. Everything seemed a bit brighter that day." She laughed a little, eyes twinkling at the remembrance of that one special day. "I was named Lilyfur. My mother was so proud. She loved the flowers, those pretty lilies. That was my father's nickname for me-pretty Lily. He only said it when Mother wasn't around, though-she didn't like nicknames, said it was improper. I always liked it, though. And just to think, I'll see Birdwillow and Stripytail again. I'll see everyone..."

She trailed off, smiling blithely. The cold had numbed her frosty-furred paws. Then she continued again, flicking snowflakes off her ears. "But then I got older. I fell in love with Graypelt and had Flamebreeze and...and Birdtail, after my mother. Birdtail died in battle. Flamebreeze died of sickness. You died of old age, Graypelt, my dear, and thank StarClan for that. I will meet you soon, my family. I can feel it in my old brittle bones."

_-Chapter Thirty: An Old Cat's Dead-_

Antstar was not prepared for what Stormclaw told her the morning it snowed. She was not prepared in the slightest. So, when he did come into her den and told her, she was shocked. Very, very shocked.

_Trembletail's dead. _

The words reverberated through her head, twisting through her thoughts and ripping holes through memories.

_She was at my leadership ceremony. She was at my warrior's ceremony...she was there. Old, but there. How? _

"How?" the auburn she-cat yelped aloud, eyes glittering with sadness and grief. "How?!"

Stormclaw bowed his head, murmuring, "Old age. That is what we have concluded, anyway."

"Age?!" Antstar bellowed, "_Age_? How stupid. _Age_! Ha! Such a horrible way to die."

Stormclaw gulped and nodded briefly. He knew the noble ThunderClan leader was in shock...or perhaps just grasped by that strange mental sickness that had plagued her for moons now. She would go blank, not speaking, and not eat. Sometimes she would stay in her den all day. But this was the first time Stormclaw had ever heard her rant in her crazed, oddly hate-filled way. No, it _must _be shock.

"But...but we haven't had a death in ThunderClan since Snowtooth! Ridiculous!" ranted Antstar spittingly, wild-eyed. "I must tell the Clan of this terrible, nonsensical event. Where is my Highrock?!"

Slightly frightened by his loyal leader's mental collapse, Stormclaw dragged Antstar to the Highrock. She scrabbled unceremoniously to the top and bellowed, "All cats old enough to catch their own...own food gather beneath the Highrock for a...meeting."

Despite her botched attempt at the call, ThunderClan warriors and apprentices swarmed to the Highrock in an instant. "What's going on?" cried Sparrowfeather, "I've heard rumors...is Trembletail dead?!"

"Yes."

Yowls of horror and anguish burst from the crowd. "She was my _kin_!" spat Crowtail sadly. "My mother's mother...oh, Trembletail, why did you have to die, too?"

"Kin?!" Gingertail yelped, recoiling in horror. "Her son was my mate!"

"Has anyone told Whitefoot or Graycloud?" asked Burrpelt, eyes dark with sadness-although she was never his biological kin, he had always regarded her as such. "Has any cat?"

No one answered the tangle-furred tom-until Leopardbelly spoke. "I...I think...they _saw_. The body, I mean."

"The body?!" squawked Whitecloud in horror, "Did no one even move her?!"

Accusations were flung out in the crowd, with Antstar dazedly swaying on the Highrock. Stormclaw leapt up next to her to steady the little brown she-cat. "She can't even walk!" squealed Goldenpaw, terrified and wide-eyed, from the midst of the crowd. Antstar raised an eyebrow, still swaying, but didn't speak. Stormclaw gazed down at his Clan.

"It is time I spoke to you all outright," he meowed, propping Antstar against his left shoulder blade as she relaxed with a soft sigh. "Antstar is ill. And...and Nightshine and Hareheart do not know what she has."

More screams of anguish and roars of desperate explanations rang out again, meeting every cat's ears. Nightshine cried loudly, "That's not true! We're still searching-!", but the Clan's hysterical roars drowned her out completely. ThunderClan's warriors had delved into chaos in just the past hour...and it was only morning.

_-Chapter Thirty-One: Strongpaw Snaps, Amongst Other Things-_

"Guess what?"

Strongpaw groaned inwardly, turning away from the ever-energetic, talkative Littlepaw, under the mighty oak. The Clan had been silenced by the now leaderly Stormclaw's cry, and were silently mourning Trembletail's untimely death. Graycloud and Whitefoot were sharing tongues with her at that moment in their grief, just before the traditional burial. ThunderClan's camp was overcome with a mournful, melancholy gloom, and everyone seemed to realize it-except Littlepaw.

"Guess what?" the little black-splotched apprentice persisted, skittering next to her and nudging her cream-furred paw with his own. "I'm going to share mentors with you, since Stormclaw's busy taking care of Antstar. Hey, Antstar's sure tiny, isn't she? No wonder her name's 'ant'. I wonder if she was the runt of the litter? Like me! Wouldn't that be amazing? We would have something in common! Think of it, Strongpaw-_me_, having something in common with our _leader_! Is Blossompelt nice? She sounds nice. I bet she's nice. Is she? Strongpaw? Is she?"

Strongpaw whipped around, a sneer on her pursed lips. "Don't you have anything better to do than follow me like a Twoleg's dog?! Do you even care that Trembletail, the second oldest elder in ThunderClan, _died_ today?!" she shouted angrily. With each word Littlepaw flinched, shrinking back in fear. Sadness shone in his mint-green eyes.

"I care," he mewed in a tiny voice, faintly. "I care a lot."

"Well, then why don't you show a little more sensitivity," snapped Strongpaw fumingly, flicking her tail. Then the cream-furred apprentice stalked away, towards her sister. A large lump welled in Strongpaw's throat when she thought of Raintalon. They had grown so far apart in just the short moons the blue-gray warrior had had her final assessment. She couldn't remember the last time her littermate had talked to her, except when it was mandatory, like on hunting or border patrols. _Is she upset at me? _Strongpaw wondered, the lump growing larger. _What did I do? _

"Hey, Raintalon," Strongpaw said with an awkward cough as she plopped down beside Leopardbelly, who, though Strongpaw didn't notice, shifted a little uncomfortably when the cream apprentice settled down. "Hi, everyone. What are we talking about?"

An uncomfortable silence descended upon the cluster of cats, until Raintalon muttered, "Hi...Strongpaw. We were just talking about WindClan."

"WindClan?" Strongpaw blurted, her fur growing warmer as she realized that the whole cluster's eyes were on her. "Wow. I, I mean...wow. Like, the threat, and everything? Yeah, that's pretty bad. I hope the other Clans will, er, I mean, I hope for _our _Clan's sake that they'll give herbs to WindClan...StarClan knows we can't afford to." She laughed weakly, fur prickling with embarrassment. Since when did she become a regular Littlepaw?

Ferretface yawned, his mouth widening to reveal row upon row of sharp gleaming teeth. "Well," he meowed lazily, "I'd better get on a hunting patrol. Stormclaw told me that I had to go on at least one today-says I'm getting a little pudgy around the legs, or whatever. Hey, Liontail-I'll bet you five mouse tails I can catch more squirrels than you."

"Squirrels?" the golden warrior scoffed, getting to his paws to Strongpaw's reluctant disappointment. "Please-water voles are harder." The two toms left, arguing about what creature was rarer the whole way as they trotted out of camp along with Lionclaw and Burrpelt.

Strongpaw sighed, heart aching. No matter how hard she tried, Liontail continuously crept his way into her thoughts, yet she could never have him-he was Leopardbelly's mate now. What could a lovesick she-cat _do _in that situation?

The said Leopardbelly glanced at the fresh-kill pile, her ebony brow furrowed. "Did you hear?" she whispered softly, green eyes widening, "That whole load of prey we brought back at the beginning of leaf-bare turned to crowfood just yesterday. All of it, even the pieces we had caught just a few days before. Nightshine and Hareheart are going mad trying to decide whether it was a message from StarClan or not. I mean, it seems like that to me, but you never know with StarClan. Not to mention all the warriors are going crazy, because Gingertail and Quillfur woke up sick. They think that the food was rotten before today, or something mousebrained like that." The black warrior snorted, as if the very thought was ridiculous.

Raintalon's ears flicked uneasily. "Wow. Really?" she meowed incredulously. "That _is _pretty mousebrained. Thank StarClan the sickness didn't get to us."

"_Yet_," Leopardbelly meowed with relish, "The medicine cats haven't diagnosed it yet-it could very well be contagious, you know. Dawnfur says it probably is, because Goldenpaw started coughing when she and her were on the dawn patrol."

Strongpaw glanced at her littermate, a little puzzled. Since when did Leopardbelly listen to Dawnfur? She didn't seem like that kind of cat.

"Since when do you talk with Dawnfur?" spat Raintalon in surprise, eyebrows raised. Strongpaw felt a little satisfaction settle in her fur as she realized that Raintalon had no idea either.

Leopardbelly shrugged, tail lashing. She could clearly sense the blue-gray warrior's resentment. "I dunno," she mewed carelessly. "We just started talking about names one day during a border patrol. Couple days ago, I think. I was telling her about how hateful my name is, remember? We already had that conversation. Y'know, with the 'who would want to be named after their _belly_' and all? StarClan, Raintalon, who spit in your fresh-kill?"

Strongpaw could feel the angry tension between the two friends, and then felt a strange pang of jealousy. _She _didn't have any friends to get mad at-not anymore. Leopardbelly had Raintalon and Dawnfur, not to mention Liontail, now. Raintalon-her own _sister_-had Leopardbelly, Ferretface, and Liontail as her friends. But Strongpaw? She had nobody.

Suddenly, the lump that had temporarily dissipated in the throat of Fernlight's daughter appeared again, as unbearable as ever. With a quiet goodbye, Strongpaw backed away, blue eyes glistening with gloom. She backed up so quickly, in fact, she almost bumped into Poppypelt, who was absentmindedly walking over to the medicine cats' den.

"Oh," the orange senior warrior murmured sadly, "It's you, Strongpaw. Shouldn't you be with Blossompelt? It's almost midday. Last time I checked apprentices trained as early as possible. But I suppose it's not your fault. With Trembletail's death... The Clans-all of them-have fallen on hard times. There's sickness and starvation and death, and on top of it all we are on the verge of war with WindClan. Training's the least of our worries, and yet among the most of them. If only StarClan would show us a way..."

The orange warrior ambled away to talk to Nightshine, who was sorting herbs for Goldenpaw in her den. Strongpaw watched as the golden-furred young apprentice coughed feebly, flinching with every harsh, forced exhale. She watched as Hareheart appeared from the depths of the den and talked softly with her for a few moments. Goldenpaw nodded, and the light brown tom nudged her into the den.

Poppypelt was right, Strongpaw realized somberly-these _were _hard times. Hard times, indeed.

_ -Chapter Thirty-Two: Two Loners, One Clan- _

Fernlight watched blankly as Spiderstar padded forward, the tortoiseshell's usually sleek, smooth pelt a ragged, tangled mess of colors. Her ears were flat across her skull, and her dark green eyes were hollow and haunted. "WindClan," she began with a cracking croak, "is on the brink of a plague. Over half of our Clan has died in the past moon due to this sickness, this undeniable illness that StarClan has unfairly sent upon us. Three warriors were granted their warrior names during this moon, but unfortunately only one out of the three survived the sickness-Jaysong. He is not able to be here tonight to receive the proper praise because he is deemed still contagious. Nonetheless, WindClan is proud to have him as a new warrior."

Quietly, hesitantly, the rest of the Clans cheered the WindClan warrior's new name. "Jaysong! Jaysong! Jaysong!"

Spiderstar dipped her head briefly, then uttered, "Yet I have more news. Due to the desperate circumstances WindClan has been put through, we are forced to take measures to the extreme, as you might say. We have welcomed two loners into our Clan."

Yowls of disbelief exploded in the cool evening air. Snow crunched beneath paws as cats lurched forward, yelling, wild-eyed. "A loner?!" cried Spottedbark, a senior RiverClan warrior. "You must be joking!"

"Yes!" cried out Larkfoot of ShadowClan, "Loners do not belong in the Clans! You WindClan cats must all be fools to even consider!"

Fernlight's creamy fur bristled with shock, mouth agape. _Two loners in WindClan_?! It was unthinkable to even have _one_!For the first time, Fernlight started wondering if perhaps, because WindClan's needs were so desperate they needed two loners, ThunderClan should give them the herbs they pined for. Maybe...

"How does welcoming two loners into your Clan help you?!" hissed Ripplewater, another RiverClan warrior with especially voluminous fur, "It's just two new mouths to feed!"

Hisses and snarls of agreement flew through the crowd like wind. Spiderstar's dull eyes glittered unreadably, then flickered out. "That is not any of your concerns," she snapped, "And WindClan has been cautioned not to tell any of you. We have our privacy just like any of you do."

Jeers continued to fly at the WindClan leader, to which she held her ground. This time, her eyes gleamed as jagged as rocks. "You may jeer and insult and berate us all you want," she yowled fiercely, "but you'll see soon enough-WindClan will prevail!"

_-Chapter Thirty-Three: Evol Leaves (Though Antstar Doesn't Know Them Yet)_

Antstar heard the voice again as she fell asleep that evening, the evening she didn't go to the Gathering, because Stormclaw thought-_everyone _thought-she was sick. The voice was as mystical as before, as slick and slippery as a watered pebble at the bottom of a river. Its words were vague yet blunt:

_"You know what we need. Give us this, ThunderClan, and one won't die tonight." _

As the voice's owner disappeared in a whirl of wind, coldness coarsed through Antstar's veins. _One won't die tonight. _WindClan was plotting to kill a ThunderClan warrior!

Quickly, she scrabbled out of her den, ignoring the warnings from Burrpelt, who was standing guard, and promptly tripped over a leaf. Glaring at the plant that had made her fall, Antstar picked herself up, panting slightly. Sweat beaded her furry forehead, and the little auburn she-cat's pupils swiveled into slits as she realized what she had just trodded over...just as the wonderful, enticing scent reached her nostrils, wreathing her muzzle with deliciousness with every inhale. Her eyes glazed over. It looked so...so...delicious. Would it really hurt to take one bite? A little, minusicle nibble? `

"Antstar!" yelped Burrpelt, scrambling after her, "What are you doing? Stormclaw gave me strict orders to...to...what is that _smell_?" The light brown tom stopped dead in his tracks, nose twitching rapidly. His dark blue eyes blinked twice, then narrowed in a vague daze. He stumbled unsteadily closer to the waxy leaf, jaws parted...but Antstar stopped him with a swipe of a (thankfully sheathed) paw.

"That's mine," she snarled, eyes glittering-she was completely under the strange herb's spell. ThunderClan's leader dragged the leaf to her and bent down, snatching up a delightful bite in her hungry lips, chewing blissfully. Her fur bristled, then settled. A happy moan of delight issued from her full mouth as Antstar chomped, shivering deliciously. It was delicious, more delicious than mouse or vole or squirrel or even mothers' milk. The smell was fresh, slightly minty, but was much richer, like smelling roses or eating a plump, juicy mouse. Burrpelt whimpered in an embarrassingly kit-like manner, shaking with want. "Antstar," he whined, "Give me a little bit, will you? Please? It looks so good..."

Without waiting for an answer, Burrpelt grabbed the last scrap of half-eaten leaf and chewed rapidly. A smile split on his drool-ridden maw, and he leapt in the air with an exaggerated whoop of joy. "Delicious!" he pronounced loudly as he landed, gazing in awe at the stars that twinkled brightly above. "This must be a gift from StarClan!"

"Yes," replied Antstar earnestly, looking at the spot where the waxy herb once was, scuffing her auburn paws in the dirt. Her eyes glimmered with longing. "A gift that should be immediately replenished."

Burrpelt nodded rapidly, still staring at the stars. His tail whipped back and forth urgently. "Yes!" he hissed sadly, "Immediately. As soon as possible!"

The former guard glanced down at his leader...and stared. His fur prickled suddenly, and Burrpelt's heart started beating much faster than normal. When had Antstar, that mousy little she-cat with a demanding personality, become so...so...pretty? So graceful, so lithe, so wonderful? He gulped and met her eyes. They were round and big, pupils dilated. Heat crackled between them despite the icy air. Purrs lit the night as the two cats crept a little closer to each other.

"Antstar?" breathed Burrpelt softly, brushing her pelt with his, "I feel funny."

Antstar stopped her purring for a minute, pupils shrinking back to normal for a heartbeat as she mewed confusedly, "I...I, too."

But then the spell strengthened its hold on the two ThunderClan cats, and Antstar's bluish gray eyes re-glazed themselves. The two twined tails, gazing sweetly into each others' eyes. Burrpelt rubbed his soft brown cheek against Antstar's whiskers, and Antstar nuzzled under his furry chin.

And then, together, they whispered into each others' ears...

"_I love you_."

_-Chapter Thirty-Four: Littlepaw and Strongpaw Make Up and Strongpaw gets Hurt-_

Strongpaw was bored. Bored, bored, bored. Bored as she watched Goldenpaw fumble a catch of a sparrow, bored as she saw Goosepaw gloat to his sister about his own catch, and bored as she looked at Weaselpaw, who was glaring at her furiously out of the corners of his amber eyes for seemingly no reason in particular.

Strongpaw tapped the dusty ground with a cream paw absently, tail lashing. Though grief for Trembletail still hung heavy in the air, the Clan rejoiced when Goldenpaw returned from the medicine den, healthy and energetic as ever, with no trace of illness to be found. Her brothers celebrated by teasing her relentlessly about how weak she was compared to them because they had had more battle training. Strongpaw celebrated by being nice to her. Before she got annoying again.

And then, of course, there was Littlepaw. The small white-and-black apprentice hadn't officially met Sparrowfeather's kits yet-they, even Goldenpaw, had distanced themselves from the two considerably, save for that one time moons ago, when Littlepaw had first arrived in ThunderClan. This was going to be the first time Snowfrost's younger kit trained to be a full-fledged warrior, and StarClan, was he excited about it.

"Is Goldenpaw mean?" chirped the black-patched tom happily as he trotted beside Strongpaw earlier that day as the seven cats journeyed to the training hollow. "Like Weaselpaw and Goosepaw?"

Strongpaw blinked at him, surprised. The little snap she had given him just a few sunrises ago had obviously been forgotten. Shaking off her disbelief, the cream apprentice mused, "She's kind of nice...but mostly annoying. Uh...but I don't know her that well. I'm sure you two'll get along fine," she added under her breath. Littlepaw nodded earnestly.

In the present, Strongpaw sighed, paws trembling on the hollow's sandy ground as vibrations rippled through it due to Littlepaw's excited bouncing. "Would you _stop _that?" she hissed, glaring at the other apprentice. He stopped, only to start again heartbeats later. Strongpaw sighed again, this time more heavily.

"Strongpaw! You're up!" trilled Blossompelt. The white she-cat walked briskly into the center of the training area and flicked her tail impatiently. Her amber eyes followed her apprentice's paws as the cream she-cat dutifully padded toward her. "This time," Blossompelt meowed, "We're going to try advanced dogging. You remember what dogging is, don't you?" Strongpaw nodded. "Well, then what is it?"

"Dogging is when a warrior follows his opponent very close behind them," Strongpaw droned automatically, "It is supposed to intimidate them into running off, without getting your claws dirty."

Blossomepelt paced in front of Strongpaw, ears flicking in a 'go on' gesture. "But what is the usual effect?" she prompted.

"Usually the opponent faces you and tries to fight. You can get the upper paw by looming over them like a monster looms over a cat. This sometimes works with younger apprentices that haven't been fully trained. It also helps get the weaker warriors out of the fight so you can concentrate on the ones that are the most troubling. Overall, a useful but sometimes faulty method." Strongpaw looked at her mentor dully and yawned. "I've already learned this!" she whined, "Why do I have to recite this all to you? Shouldn't just learning the move be enough without cramming its whole entire history into my brain?"

"That 'whole entire history' keeps your brain sharp," snapped Blossompelt angrily, "Without it you'd be nothing but strong, not a drop of intelligence to be found. Basically, you'd be a mousebrain. Learning about fighting methods also helps you plan out strategies and create your own original moves. You're lucky, Strongpaw-when I was an apprentice, my mentor didn't teach me a thing but fighting and occasionally hunting. Be thankful-not everyone gets the privileges you do."

"Privileges? More like punishments," snickered Goosepaw from a little way's away. He stood under the snow-laden willow tree with his mentor, Poppypelt, smirking insolently.

Poppypelt gazed at him and clucked in a motherly fashion, "Goosepaw, don't be rude. Soon you'll be learning about battle moves too, once you get past hunting."

Littlepaw glared at the dark-speckled apprentice as well, and stuck his tongue out cheekily. Goosepaw glared murderously in his direction, claws unsheathing and sheathing again menacingly.

"Lunge!" hissed Blossompelt, dodging to one side and turning tail on Strongpaw, who quickly launched herself towards the white she-cat's swiftly moving form. Bursts of air pushed from Strongpaw's chest as she ran, twisting and turning so fast to catch her mentor her stomach was flopping and paws were automatically twisting themselves in wild, desperate directions. The sandy hollow blurred as her eyes switched this way and that, body burning with dissipating energy. Strongpaw's blue eyes were streaming, mouth gaping as she panted heavily, paws dodging and twisting and pulling this way, that way, this and that and _lunge _and pull and unsheath-she's-_right-there _and dodge and scramble and-

There! Her outstretched claws tore at snowy fur, and Blossompelt whipped around, raking her sheathed paw across Strongpaw's peach-colored nose. Strongpaw backed away automatically, face twisted in a mock snarl, and launched at Blossompelt, claws tackling her flanks. But the world spun wildly as Strongpaw's mentor's fur vanished beneath her embedded claws, and she, still in the midst of her spring, was flung to the dusty ground, landing with a thud that rattled her skull and teeth. The cream apprentice groaned in pain. Her mouth felt funny, and she could feel the warmness of blood pooling onto her dusty tongue. Her teeth throbbed with pain, and Strongpaw gave another pitiful whimper.

Immediately, Littlepaw leapt over, mint-colored eyes wide with worry, but before he could take two steps Icefern blocked him with his tail. The tom's amber eyes were narrowed sternly. "She can handle this on her own, kit," he hissed into the smaller tom's black-splotched ear. Littlepaw's lip trembled, but he sat down obediently. Goosepaw rolled his eyes.

Strongpaw could now feel Blossompelt's breath puffing softly on her ear fur. "You okay?" the white she-cat whispered quietly, "That was quite a fall."

The cream-furred apprentice blinked, her blurred vision sharpening slightly. She could now make out the concerned expression of Blossompelt, whose amber eyes widened as she hushedly exclaimed, "You're bleeding! StarClan, Strongpaw, you must have fallen _hard_. I'm so sorry."

Soft, reassuring pelts pressed against Strongpaw's limp body. Icefern grunted loudly, the force of his harshly exhaled breath making her ears flutter rapidly as Blossompelt and Goldenpaw's mentor hoisted her to her paws. Strongpaw felt dizzy again-she could see scarlet drops trickling slowly to the dust, coming from her own gaping jaws. A soft exclamation of "Oh, blood..." glided smoothly to her ears, but the words didn't register-the world was spinning again. More blood pooled to the ground violently as her vision spun, more yelps of "Blood, blood," and whispers of sleep pressing on her hearing. With a soft, slippery blink, Strongpaw glided off into unconsciousness, the world turning black, a soft, reassuring ebony that wrapped her in its dark pelt and cradling her, cradling her forever in its dark, beautiful embrace.

_-Chapter Thirty-Five: "I Brought You a Mouse"-_

"I brought you a mouse."

The sudden words snapped Strongpaw awake. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. _Liontail?! _she wondered dazedly.

"Hi." Littlepaw was so close she jumped and backed away. His mint eyes were wide with curiosity as he gently batted a mouse towards her. "I brought you a mouse," he repeated shyly. "I thought you'd like it since you told me you liked them."

"Uh...huh," mumbled Strongpaw, shaking her head. "Thanks. I mean, thank you. That was...nice."

Littlepaw nodded seriously and rocked on his heels, all four of them, looking at her expectantly. "I saw the blood. I hate blood. I hate seeing it," he babbled before she could say a word. "But I don't care about prey blood because that's for food. Also it gives it a nice salty tinge. What about you? Do you like blood?"

Strongpaw shook her head again. Her mouth felt funny again, like something hd been shoved down her throat recently. "Yeah," she murmured hazily, "Um, Littlepaw? Could you get Nightshine? Or...or Hareheart? I'd like to talk to them. Please."

The tiny apprentice nodded furiously. "Goodbye, Strongpaw!" he called as he exited the den, "Feel better, okay?"

Strongpaw slumped, ears flattening against her head miserably. "Of course," she mewed sarcastically to herself, "Like I can just make myself well on command." Then she felt bad-Littlepaw _had_ just brought her fresh-kill when he didn't have to, after all. No matter how annoying he was, he was still a decent cat. Strongpaw sighed heavily and burrowed her muzzle into her limp paws in front of her, just as Nightshine walked in.

"Hello, Strongpaw," the medicine cat mewed kindly, "How's my patient? You're well, I suppose, or you wouldn't look so bored." Nightshine chuckled at her own joke. Strongpaw lifted her head defiantly.

"I'm not bored," she protested, "I just woke up. What happened to me? Why...what did you make me swallow?"

Nightshine's eyebrow lifted slightly. "Ah. You're a curious one. Hareheart was curious too, when he was an apprentice." The black she-cat's beautiful amber eyes misted over with nostalgia. For a moment, they just sat there, two she-cats in the medicine den, both silent. Then Nightshine cleared her throat and meowed briskly, "You've cracked a tooth and bruised your upper lip, but other than that the injury's nonexistent. I gave you some poppyseed to ease the ache so you wouldn't feel too much when I fixed your tooth up. The stuff wedged in your tooth is some dandelion fluff-helps stop the bleeding. Spiderweb looses its stickiness when wet, so we couldn't use that on you."

"Oh." Strongpaw scratched an itch on her ear with her hind paw, wincing as she turned her head. "Okay. Um...so, if I'm not sick or mortally wounded or anything, can I go now? I'm probably needed for a patrol." She sat up, trying not to wobble as she padded unsteadily toward the exit.

Nightshine called after the cream-furred apprentice as she tottered outside, "Watch what you eat! Something soft-wouldn't want to hurt your tooth anymore than it already has been!" Strongpaw adknowledged her words with a flick of an ear, and then felt herself fluorish under the warm, gentle sun that was slowly unfurling its bright rays-newleaf was on the way.

_-Chapter Thirty-Six: Antstar Does Something Unexpected-_

No one had killed any of ThunderClan that night, Antstar knew dazedly as she woke in her den one late morning, but something odd had happened. With Burrpelt, maybe? Something with cream.

She struggled to her paws and teetered outside, the sun's warmth sliced by the cool leaf-bare breeze that whisked through her fur. "Burrpelt?" she called hazily, "Burr-..."

"Antstar!" Stormclaw bounded up to her, amber eyes round with urgency. "You should be in your den. Hareheart will bring you some breakfast."

Antstar shoved past him, tail lashing. "Burrpelt!" she bellowed, "Come here! I need you."

Immediately, the cream-colored tom padded to her aid. His eyes were curious yet clouded, as if unsure. "I don't know either," he murmured, "What happened, I just...I just know something _did_. Between you. And me."

Horror flicked across Stormclaw's face, the deputy's eyes widening. "You didn't hurt her," he growled sharply, menacingly, "You better not have hurt her!"

Burrpelt took a step back, head bowing submissively. "Stormclaw," he mewed, voice trembling, "I promise, it was nothing that serious. But...that _feeling_...it must have happened days ago. Yes, yes-on the night of the Gathering. I remember a little now. But how are we just remembering now?" Antstar stared at the warrior searchingly, bluish gray eyes narrow.

"We ate something," she said abruptly, "A herb. But it's gone now, from our systems as well. I suggest we forget, Burrpelt, and let this be a warning to all cats who dare come upon those leaves."

Burrpelt didn't answer for a few minutes. Then he murmured finally, "But how will we discourage others from going near it? It's nearly impossible to resist eating."

Antstar paused, then sighed. "We will do our best," she meowed quietly, then turned to her deputy. "Stormclaw, alert the Clan of this arrangement at once. I have business to get to."

Then she trotted off, before her Clanmates could say a word. The auburn she-cat was determined to take a walk without any cat stopping her-this was something _she_, not Stormclaw, had to do.

Antstar stopped once she reached a large, rather bushy bush, the yellow of the honeysuckle buds inside just beginning to peek out, icy droplets dripping sluggishly from the frosted plant. She took a deep breath and stared solely at the strange Twoleg thing that hid from behind the bush, long, slim, and ebony. There was many of them, joined together in one long line, stuck way in the dirt. Their spiked ends rocketed upward, towering over the little she-cat and shining in the light of the iced sun. And beyond that was a Twoleg nest, large and stony. Antstar took another breath, but did not hesitate another minute as she yowled, "_Sandi_!"

Another fainter yowl answered, and some scratching noises sounded from inside the nest, until a loud screech and grinding noise shook the unseen entrance open. Another cat, slim and gray, slunk lethargically over to the Twoleg thing, and leapt up onto it, paws filling the cracks between the sharp points. "What's up?" he asked lazily, ears twitching.

Antstar glared at the tom, squinting in the sunlight that drove his figure into shadow. "Spritz," she replied impatiently, "I need Sandi for a few moments, if you please. It's important."

The cat-Spritz-shook his head, eyes flashing momentarily as he laughed, "You kiddin'? Didn't you hear, pussycat? Little ole Sandi's gotten herself plopped into a right good fix. Went away, couple weeks ago I think, with the housefolk shrieking like crows. Haven't seen her since." He licked his front paw thoughtfully. "You haven't been around to visit in a while. How's the wild life goin'? Is the-whad'ja call it-_prey _going well?"

Antstar's eyes narrowed at his mocking smirk. "Fine, thank you," she mewed curtly, whiskers twitching with irritation. "It's _running _well, now that newleaf's starting again. Now, where did you say Sandi went again?" Though her tone was casual, her gray-blue eyes betrayed her concern, and Spritz spotted it.

"Dunno," he shot back, hatefully casual as ever. "Somewhere. I always knew her wild ways would get her in trouble one day. Was just waiting for when." He rubbed his tongue-soaked paw over his ears, carelessness slicing off his tongue with every lick and spurting its putrid stench into Antstar's muzzle. She blew off the scent violently, seething with dislike for the tom in front of her.

"Look," she spat heatedly, "I'm not looking for stupidity here, just answers. Where is my sister, you mangy piece of fox dung?!"

_-Chapter Thirty-Seven: Strongpaw and Weaselpaw make Friends!...Oh, and Some Cat Dies, Too-_

"I want you two to practice together," meowed Crowtail in a businesslike fashion, ebony tail waving. "It will help you accelerate better, Weaselpaw, and it will help your focus, Strongpaw."

Strongpaw groaned, Weaselpaw doing the same. They were in the sandy hollow, training along with Goosepaw and Littlepaw. Goldenpaw was going to follow suit later-some of her former symptoms of sickness had returned, and the medicine cats were checking her over.

"Do we have to?" complained Weaselpaw to his mentor, tail lashing. "She's...so...she's...I just don't want to train with her!"

"What about me?" snapped Strongpaw angrily, stamping a front paw, "I don't want to train with _him_! He'll trip me when I turn away, Crowtail, I know he will!"

Crowtail glared at the two arguing cats with contempt, a sneer flickering on her pursed lips. "Exactly why I put you two together. Your enemies won't be apologizing when tripping you in battle, so why should they in practice? It's the same with Goosepaw and that little one over there-they despise each other! They'll fight better like this, and you will, too. Just remember," she added in a irritatingly singsong manner as she walked away, "no claws!"

Strongpaw felt like screaming as she glared at Weaselpaw, the smaller cat staring at her equally furiously. "Let's get this over with," she spat, tail whipping side to side.

"Gladly," Weaselpaw hissed, raising a paw in a strike as he skidded toward her. As his paw aimed to snap her across the pelt, Strongpaw dodged to the side, leaping toward him in a successful tackle. He gave a snarl as she rolled off him on the ground, breathing hard. "Has anyone told you how fat you are?" he taunted, hackles raising.

"All the better to pummel you, my dear," Strongpaw yowled, paws shoving him down to the ground once again. Weaselpaw writhed and struggled beneath her, his face smushed against the dust. Suddenly, Strongpaw felt his tail give her flanks a small, soft stroke, just lightly brushing the tips of each strand of cream fur. She swallowed hard, fur prickling. Her blue eyes bulged, biting her bottom lip. But she couldn't hold it in, and eventually burst into laughter, the tickle spreading through her pelt-just enough to catch her off guard. Weaselpaw sprang up and darted to one side, grinning triumphantly. His eyes sparkled at her, and as Strongpaw met his gaze the anger melted between them, replaced by unbelievable mirth.

"I can't believe you did that!" yowled Strongpaw with laughter, "You...you...what kind of battle move was _that_?!"

"My own," he mewed back, a smile spreading on his face. "It was way better than what you came up with."

Strongpaw shook her head, still _mrrow_ing. "But WindClan won't surrender to a puny apprentice with an attitude problem and a couple of kit-like pranks, you know."

Weaselpaw shrugged, grin crooking slightly. "But it worked on you," he replied snidely, leaping lightly over to the willow, where Crowtail, Poppypelt, and Blossompelt were waiting.

Strongpaw followed the smaller cat, enjoying the warmth of the newleaf sun on her back. Crowtail was gazing at her sternly when she finally sat before the ebony warrior, the other apprentices beside her.

Crowtail was just about to speak when a frantic Icefern skidded up to them, dirty white chest heaving and hazel eyes bulging. "It's Goldenpaw," he gasped, "She's...she's dead."

_-Chapter Thirty-Eight: From a Medicine Cat's Eyes-_

Hareheart was tending to the snuffling Burrpelt when it happened. The cream-furred tom had been doing well since the last Gathering, where he had been healed enough to watch over Antstar but not enough to go to the Gathering itself. His health had shot up ever since then, and Hareheart was happily checking him over one last time before he was deemed ready to go back to his warrior duties when Nightshine burst into the den, snatched up some poppy seed, and blurted at him through a mouthful of the herb, "Get over here! It's urgent!"

The two ThunderClan medicine cats ran toward the stream not far from the camp. She, Nightshine explained, had chosen the stream for the golden apprentice's last look-over as a surprise, not expecting it to be serious-a grave mistake on her part, which she profusely repeated. "I was checking her heartbeat when she started to sweat," the ebony she-cat puffed, still sprinting. "Then it sped up like a hummingbird. I thought it was maybe nausea, perhaps a little after-sickness or anxiety, but then she started to complain about her head..."

Hareheart panted, trying desperately to keep up with his former mentor's lean legs. "Head?" he puffed, "That wasn't what was originally hurting. It was her belly. Are you sure-"

"Hush!" Nightshine hissed softly, "We're almost there."

The two cats ceased their running, sliding silently in the muddy bank they had stumbled across. Just beyond that was Goldenpaw, on her side, her messy-furred back turned toward the medicine cats. Hareheart's eyes widened as she groaned in pain.

Retching noises sounded from the limp, muddy form, and her shoulder blades protruded painfully from her back as Goldenpaw hunched over, vomiting. Hareheart's ears twitched uncomfortably when the sour smell seeped up his nostrils. "Goldenpaw?" he murmured softly, taking a step forward. "It's Hareheart. I'm here to help. Look, Nightshine's got poppy seeds..." No answer. A sick gurgle sounded from the ill apprentice's throat, but was cut off by the rush of phlegm spilling from her mouth. Hareheart bounded over, all hesitations of contagiousness forgotten in his haste. The sick cat's eyelids fluttered unevenly, and her maw was plastered with vomit and saliva. Hareheart rested a paw on one of her shoulders-it was trembling, and hotter than a sun-baked rock. Suddenly, without warning, Goldenpaw turned over, eyes a sticky and murky green. They twitched glassily as the young cat croaked, "H-Hareheart? Nightshine?"

Nightshine crouched near the apprentice, her mew comforting and almost lullabying as she softly murmured, "It's alright, Goldenpaw. Rest now. Hareheart's off to fetch water." The ebony she-cat flashed her former apprentice a look, and Hareheart immediately responded by leaping away to find moss, breathing heavy in his throat. His eyes darted nervously this way and that. Where could he find moss? Though the answer thundered in his mind he could not make sense of the words. A life was at stake, he was wasting time!

The brown cat skidded to a stop at a thorn bush, thrusting his nose into the brush and sniffing urgently. After a few desperate seconds, he detected the thick, musty scent of fresh moss growing on a few clustered stones in the center of the bush. Taking a deep, shuddery breath, the medicine cat bravely endured the thorns and grasped the moss in his jaws, pulling the stuff off of the rocks with a grunt.

With the moss safely in his teeth, Hareheart swiftly ran back toward the stream, heart pounding as the forms of his former mentor and the sick apprentice grew nearer with each stride.

Once he reached the two felines he dipped the moss into the stream, soaking up the icy liquid and tightening it over Goldenpaw's weakly cracked open jaws, just allowing a thin, clear stream of cold water to trickle into her gaping maw. But then Nightshine stopped him. "She's dead, Hareheart," she meowed softly. Hareheart stared at her, the words not registering. The squeezed moss hung limply from his jaws, little droplets dripping off it occasionally. Nightshine hooked a claw onto it and ripped it from his mouth, flinging it so it skidded across the forest floor and dropped with a soft _plunk _into the stream. "You won't be needing that," she meowed solemnly, "Now come along. We can grieve later. We need to tell the Clan."

_-Chapter Thirty-Nine: What Really Happened-_

Antstar trudged back to camp, thoughts tumbling in her mind. Sandi, gone. Her sister, the one she had grown up with, that had told her of her decision to become a kittypet long before Antstar was even leader-just gone, perhaps forever. Her scent had faded from the tracks of the kittypets that walked the paths twisting through the Twolegplace, and had fled from the blooms of sweet-smelling plants littering her former Twoleg home. _Gone_.

And that, as Antstar learned, was not the only thing that was gone from her life as she walked straight into a frantically sobbing Sparrowfeather, her blue eyes glistening as she mournfully wailed, "My daughter! No!"

The shaking she-cat turned to Antstar, eyes wild. She using her forepaws to grip Antstar's shoulders. Her chest heaved with sobs. "Save her!" she bellowed, staring desperately into her leader's stunned, confused eyes. "You've got to. My kit, my precious daughter, my...my...!" With another haunting howl, Sparrowfeather ran off, a torrent of grief following her. Her side-splittingly mournful yowls echoed in the air like a haunted mist. Antstar's fur bristled, and, all thoughts of her lost sister fleeing, sprinted to the center of the camp, where a seemingly hopeless Stormclaw stood, warriors crowding around him in a mob of anger and confusion.

"How did this happen?" cried Lionclaw, voice raw and gruff with grief and fury. "How?!"

"Yes!" cried Liontail dramatically, head popping out from the crowd of pelts, amber eyes shining. "Goldenpaw's death couldn't have been an accident! There _must _have been some kind of reason!"

Antstar burst past the flurry of yowling, protesting, crying felines to where her deputy was, eyes dark. "Silence!" she yowled fiercely, "All of you, silence."

And silence they did.

Antstar gazed at her Clanmates, her Clan-so frightened and tangled in an uproarious state. "We," she began solemnly, "are ThunderClan warriors. We do _not _yowl and squeal like kits when something, no matter how terrible, doesn't go to our liking. I understand there was a dispute about a death. A daughter's-Sparrowfeather's."

Looking at Weaselpaw and Goosepaw, who were wide-eyed and stunned-looking, as if they had just received news of their sister's passing instead of hearing it half an hour before, the auburn leader continued just as commandingly, "Although this news is tragic and should not be taken lightly, ThunderClan has always-_always_-let the witnesses of anything explain first before delving into madness-something you all failed to do."

Lionclaw gazed down at his paws, expression grief-stricken and sorrowful. Dawnfur jerked her jaw, eyes defiant. Snowfrost whispered something hastily into Gingertail's ear, then fell silent. Sparrowfeather's jaw trembled, and Fernlight leaned against her comfortingly. The trembling stopped.

"Nightshine and Hareheart were witnesses to her death," Stormclaw murmured to the ThunderClan leader quickly, then retreated, back into the crowd, as if embarrassed by his failure at keeping ThunderClan calm. Nightshine padded forward, Hareheart following more slowly, as if he wasn't quite sure he should be there with his former mentor.

"Antstar," the brown medicine tom meowed a bit timidly, "I...I wasn't there when G-Goldenpaw passed. I mean, I went to get water...Nightshine was the one you should be questioning, if you will...not me."

"Went to get water?" Antstar's ears perked up. "Tell me more. Regardless of what you did and did not see, your words are just as important as Nightshine's, Hareheart."

With a self-conscious glance at the expressionless medicine cat that was now sitting, tail curled delicately around her front paws, next to Antstar, Hareheart continued a little more loudly, "Well, I was tending to Burrpelt when Nightshine burst in to the medicine cat den, telling me to come with her. I could sense something was wrong."

"It's true!" blurted out Burrpelt encouragingly, coughing. "He _was _tending to me. I could hear the whole thing!"

Murmurs and mutters rippled through the Clan.

Antstar cast an annoyed glance at the cream tom. "Continue, Hareheart," she commanded gently. "Tell us what you saw."

"Well, Nightshine told me that Goldenpaw was more ill than before and had collapsed near the stream, where she was checking her over before she was confirmed for not being sick anymore. So Nightshine left Goldenpaw to come get me and some herbs."

"A grave mistake on my part," Nightshine interjected hurriedly when Antstar aimed a shocked look at her.

"When we got there, Nightshine told me to go get some moss and soak it in water for her to drink, so I went into the forest to gather some."

"Did it ever occur to you to use the moss that was growing on the large rocks near the stream?" asked Fernlight boldly. Hareheart blanched (well, as much as a cat can blanche when he's covered in fur) at the question, struck dumb with the realization.

"I...I did not think of that," the younger medicine cat mumbled finally, staring at his paws. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?!" yelped Sparrowfeather, glaring daggers at Hareheart mercilessly, "'Sorry' catches no prey, medicine cat! You killed my daughter!"

Yells and yowls flew. The air was thick with insults and accusations, until Stormclaw bellowed, "Silence!"

And silence they did.

"A-...and when I got back," Hareheart stuttered hastily, confidence lost, "With the moss, of course...she was gone. I was too late." Bowing his head, the brown tom retreated, far into the crowd, utterly humiliated.

Antstar's face was solemn and stony as she mewed, "Very well. Nightshine, apparently you were there when Goldenpaw unfortunately passed."

Nightshine nodded. "This is true, Antstar. Although I am not trying to justify Hareheart's mistake, for he is a fully grown cat and can now be held fully responsible for his actions, I, too, was at fault in regards with the moss. I, at the time, was close enough to the stream to remind him about the mossy rocks-but in my panic I forgot, and for that I apologize as well." She bowed her head respectfully.

Antstar bowed back. "That was kind of you, Nightshine, and I am sure Hareheart is appreciative. Now, tell us your side of the tale."

"After Hareheart went to get moss, I tried to soothe her with the poppy seed," the ebony she-cat confessed, "but she wouldn't eat it, told me she didn't need it, that she could already see the stars in their fur."

"StarClan!" Sparrowfeather gasped, silently weeping. "Oh, Goldenpaw..."

"I did all I could, all she could take...but I was too late. The sickness had already taken her, perhaps even before she had collapsed. It had sealed her fate, and I couldn't save her from it, no matter what I did." Nightshine fell silent, her story done.

Antstar turned to the crowd. "There you have it," she announced, "The true reason for Goldenpaw's death. Now you have no event to argue and accuse over. Whitecloud and Quillfur, find her body and bring it back to camp, please, for the burial."

With those last words, Antstar excused herself and padded to her den, Stormclaw close behind. "Antstar," he meowed anxiously, "Not to sound insensitive to the terrible event that occurred, but...may I ask exactly where you went? You took off so fast Burrpelt and I-"

"Did Burrpelt alarm the Clan about the leaves?"

Stormclaw's voice was startled. "Er...no, I did. Burrpelt didn't feel very well, so he decided to lie down in his den for a while. Then he went to the medicine cats' den, so he wasn't quite up for the job."

Antstar didn't meow a word until she walked into her den. Then, she turned to her deputy, gray-blue eyes steely. "Stormclaw, I appreciate what you've done for ThunderClan. Your subsitution in my...mental absense was admirable. But it is time for me to step up and resume my calling as leader of ThunderClan."

Stormclaw looked stunned, and his mouth opened and closed, fumbling for words drifting in his brain, to grab hold of them and make them come out as they should. "But...but..." he stammered finally, "Are you sure, Antstar? I don't...I don't want you to feel pressured-"

"I'm sure, Stormclaw." Antstar's voice was firm, a flash of his old leader come to light. But then it vanished, and Stormclaw stepped back, resigned.

"Alright," he murmured quietly, bowing his head. "I understand. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call."

Antstar nodded, determined. "Thank you."

Then the two cats parted, Stormclaw to go organize the dusk patrol and Antstar into the depths of her den, to think, and, eventually, dream.

_-Chapter Forty:The Burial-_

Strongpaw was lying in the apprentices' den, the moments of the burial trapped in her mind. The weeping, the cries, of Sparrowfeather and Lionclaw, and, admittably, herself. Goosepaw and Weaselpaw hadn't wept nor yelped. They kept their grief inside, Strongpaw observed, and in their eyes.

Nobody else was there but Icefern. Goldenpaw's mother and father had asked them personally as the dusk patrol-consisting of Fernlight, Leopardbelly, Snowfrost, and Blossompelt-were getting to leave. Strongpaw felt a little out of place, standing there, a sort-of friend among parents, brothers, and a mentor. And she haven't even been that, really. Strongpaw was never friendly toward Goldenpaw...not really. Guilt crept into her thoughts, and Strongpaw tensed, claws digging into the moist soil as Quillfur and Whitecloud carried the body toward them. It was limp, muddy, and a pale yellow against the dying sun. Strongpaw felt a little queasy as a maggot's wings glistened in the dusk as it flitted over her corpse.

Then they shared tongues with her, licking away the mud and maggots, leaving her clean. Strongpaw was next to Sparrowfeather, who shuddered sometimes, with sobs or with coldness she didn't know. It was mournful and silent, a grieving time that Strongpaw wished would end and wished would never stop at the same time.

In the present a wind blew, causing the brambles and nettles surrounding the apprentice den (save for the entrance) rattled and scraped against the sides. Strongpaw shivered and tucked her tail tightly around herself, fur bristling. It was surprisingly cold for newleaf that night.

But what was more surprising happened later, when Strongpaw was just dropping off to sleep. Goosepaw and Weaselpaw, their forms limp and dragging, collapsed on her, quietly crying into her fur. Their shaking shook awake Strongpaw, who blinked away her grogginess and eased the Sparrowfeather's kits off her back. Goosepaw's whimpers receded-he knew she was awake. But their sniffles continued, and Strongpaw, taking pity on the two grieving apprentices, let them sleep pressed against her in a pile of legs and limbs, warm and safe. Then Littlepaw walked in, and, feeling a twinge of jealousy, snuggled in between Strongpaw and Weaselpaw, blissfully unaware of the siblings' mourning.

And so the four slept, together, in a warm, soft bundle, free from the world's troubles, only thinking of the comfort of themselves and the others, and soothed by the sounds of their four heartbeats, beating perfectly in sync.

_-Chapter Forty-One: WindClan Attacks! Finally!-_

The attack came that morning. Yowls and screams from the warriors' den issued as the quiet padding of WindClan paws became the shiver-inducing raking of WindClan claws. Antstar threw herself out of her den, forcing herself awake. The sight that greeted her was Mossfoot, a sickly-looking WindClan warrior, launching toward her with sharp, piercing claws and an equally shrill yowl. Antstar, too shocked to counter-attack, watched as Mossfoot tore her auburn fur and raked mercilessly across her cheeks, no doubt tearing out a whisker or two along the way. Thankfully, she came to her senses, and butted the WindClan she-cat chest-first. Mossfoot flew roughly across the clearing, almost being run over by a furiously dogging Whitecloud, his amber eyes lit with fury. "He killed Burrpelt!" the white warrior wailed, voice raw, staring straight at the sprinting WindClan warrior Hareface.

Before Antstar could mew one word, another WindClan cat-a hefty tortoiseshell that the auburn leader didn't recognize-barreled toward her, screeching, teeth gleaming in the rising sun. Antstar dodged to one side, and the warrior dug his claws into the ground, trying helplessly to stop himself from skidding into a patch of brambles. Antstar's mouth quirked up a bit at the comical sight, hidden behind a bush that brushed up against her den. WindClan was used to the moors, where they could run as fast as they could freely. They weren't, however, adapted to thorn bushes and nettle patches 'round every turn. This, the ThunderClan leader thought determinedly, would be simple, as long as her Clan worked strategically.

"Fernlight!" bellowed Antstar, leaping from her hiding spot and into the midst of the fight, "Make sure there are warriors near the nursery."

Fernlight, who was battling the warrior Jaysong, gazed at her with confusion just before the younger tom slapped her, claws unsheathed, in the face. With a strangled cry, the cream warrior staggered away, a lone scarlet stream dribbling from her squeezed-shut eyes.

Antstar was about to call out to her fellow ThunderClan cat, but Fernlight's crumpled form was lost in the sudden cloud of dust that rose as cats' paws thudded in the dirt, yowling and screaming, toward the barrier that guarded the ThunderClan camp. Antstar was swatted aside by two screeching apprentices (because of her small size this was embarrassingly to do) and as a result tumbled ungracefully into a puddle of bloodied thorns that were most likely wrenched out of claws with the victims' teeth. Spitting out the blood and thorn that had painfully dug into her upper gums, Antstar stumbled closer to the rampaging WindClan warriors, trying to see what in StarClan they were running from.

The answer came, seconds later: two cats, male and female, trotted up to camp, their figures backlighted by the rising sun. Antstar squinted, a chill going through her blood-what two cats could scare another Clan (well, what was left of it, anyway) away in the midst of a battle? It was unheard of!

"Greetings!" rumbled the tom, stepping forward. His silhouette faded into his original colors. He was a scrubby tortoiseshell, and an elderly one at that. His muzzle was tinged with gray, his eyes wise and clever. "I am the loner known as Old Scratch. This is my accomplice, Heart." The pretty gray she-cat by his side nodded shyly.

All of ThunderClan's mouths gaped. Antstar shut her mouth gradually, blinking. "W-why are you here?" she yowled, stepping toward the pair menacingly. "Surely it wasn't you who scared off WindClan!"

The loner-Old Scratch-nodded, smiling. "We were the two loners that WindClan generously took in," he explained, "but we soon grew weary of their ways and are seeking into a more worthy Clan."

Many cats bristled, knowing this was the wrong thing to say. In their opinions, loners weren't worthy of anything the Clans weren't. "How did you frighten WindClan off?" piped up Dawnfur suspiciously, boldly.

"Simple, young one," replied Old Scratch kindly, "We are two healthy, vigorous cats, and while they are more in numbers, the warriors of WindClan, with their sicknesses and ailings, are not fit to fight us. We feel that ThunderClan will be a noble ally to myself and Heart."

More cats bristled, some muttering loudly and angrily to one another. "ThunderClan is an ally to no one," stated Antstar firmly, "especially loners that were formerly accomplices with the likes of WindClan. Leave now or you will be driven off by force."

Snarls of agreement flitted through the air. Old Scratch's peaceful expression never wavered. "Please," he meowed, "Heart and I need a place to stay. At least somewhere around your Clan-please. Every Clan cat we've met talks of how ThunderClan is the most considerate of them all, and we cannot go back to being strays in Twolegplaces.. Please! We will help you fight, we will teach you the ways of the loners, how we protect and defend. We will help catch prey for ThunderClan, and be as loyal as they come."

Antstar's eyes narrowed at his respectful words. "ThunderClan warriors prove their loyalty with actions, not words," she snapped. "I have no reason to invite you to stay in our territory. Rogues and loners are driven off as they should be-no exceptions."

"Really?" The older loner's words were clipped. "Even for a cat that is just as old as your elders?"

At these words, Graycloud raised her eyebrows and murmured something to Whitefoot, who shifted on her shaky paws, troubled. Snowfrost tossed her snowy white head, undaunted, as did Dawnfur and Leopardbelly. Antstar felt her Clan grow a little indecisive. What do you do, after all, when an elderly loner wanders into your territory? Usually only the younger ones did, ones that were foolishly bold and capable. Elders, when they were clear-headed, steered clear of the Clans, their dangerous days long gone. _What to do? _thought Antstar suddenly, _I can't drive them off now, not that they've gotten the elders' attention. If I do, what will my Clan think of me? As an unfeeling, heartless monster? But if I let them in...the other Clans will think all of ThunderClan are soft, weepy kittypets. They'll attack the minute they hear, especially ShadowClan, those fox-hearts. We'll be surrounded, beaten. They'll drive us out of the forest, and there will be three Clans. ShadowClan will surely vouch for the woodland, and they will outnumber the others, finally defeating Spiderstar and Rosestar, taking over the Clans and ruling the forest with tooth and claw! _

The prospect of such a terrible fate made Antstar shudder. "I'm sorry," she began, a little less surely, "but-"

"Wait! Hold on a heartbeat!" yelped a familiar voice. "Please. Give them a chance. They're cold and hungry-obviously not in their right minds. Please, Antstar, let's just give them some prey. At least that. Please!"

It was Nightshine. The ebony medicine cat shoved past Whitecloud and Gingertail, who was bundled close together, silently grieving the loss of Burrpelt. Antstar felt a pang of anxiety. She wanted to get Burrpelt's body buried before the maggots got on the poor thing. As she thought of the passed ThunderClan warrior another pang twinged in her belly-one of melancholy, and deep sadness. She had shared something-some feeling-with that silly tom, and although she didn't know what it was exactly, the fact that she didn't let him thoroughly talk about it with her made a wave of regret wash over the auburn she-cat, so sudden and biting Antstar had to nip her lip in place to keep it from trembling with grief. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Antstar furrowed her brow and mewed finally, "Fine. Fine. They may stay for the evening prey, but no longer. I trust in your judgement, Nightshine-not to mention these two _did _save us from a WindClan attack that could've became much worse." _Although it _is_ a little suspicious _how _they did it,_ she added silently.

Old Scratch bowed respectfully. "Thank you, ThunderClan warrior. You must be Antstar. Spiderstar spoke of you with respect in the ranks of WindClan."

A warrior, Antstar couldn't tell whom, near her sniggered, "Suck-up." The gathered cats shifted, visibly, eager to tend to their wounds. The auburn ThunderClan leader bit her tongue to retort to the cat that had so ignorantly claimed this loner, Old Scratch, as a "suck-up" because he told her that Spiderstar regarded her with honor. The comment stung, too. Did the warrior think that Antstar wasn't worth complimenting? That just because she was leader, everyone who spoke kindly to her was regarded by others as a suck-up?

Antstar was so lost in her own thoughts for a moment she almost forgot what she was doing. She roused herself, coughing a bit awkwardly. "Right then," she meowed, "Old Scratch. Heart. Though my own conscience tells me different, I will allow you to spend one meal among us. You may be escorted by...by..." She hesitated. She couldn't pick Whitecloud-he was too busy grieving, though he was one of her best warriors in terms of strength and loyalty. Icefern was, too. Perhaps Liontail-yes, the young golden tom would speak of ThunderClan with reverance and respect in case the newcomers asked. "...Liontail and Raintalon." The rainy-gray daughter of Stormclaw was quick-witted and careful. Just in case the dramatic explaining of the latest ThunderClan battle move from Liontail became a little too detailed to her liking, she would think of something that would divert the loners' interest. It was perfect!

The chosen warriors stepped forward, glancing at one another nervously. Antstar smiled encouragingly at them, though their heads had turned to Old Scratch and Heart by the time it spread on her face.

The Clan dispersed, the air now heavy with grief as the lifeless form of Burrpelt's mussed, tangled pelt came into view from the back of a large snare of brambles, where his head lay in the midst. Whitecloud and a coughing Gingertail ran to him, burying their heads in his fur and sobbing loudly. The other cats stood respectfully around the corpse as the mother and son grieved, along with Crowtail, whose mother, Birdtail (who also happened to be the passed Trembletail's daughter) was siblings with Flamebreeze, who was the mate of Gingertail and father of Burrpelt. The trio of family members, whether blood-related or not, wept and mourned for the loss of the humor-filled, tangle-furred tom. Even Antstar murmured a few words, head bowed, at the foot of his corpse, while out of the corner of her grayish blue eyes she watched Old Scratch and Heart, her attention diverted between the two as the day's shining sun drank unto a warm afternoon.

_-Chapter Forty-Two: The Epic Argument...Sort Of!-_

Strongpaw watched the burial of Burrpelt, her legs heavy. Blood dripped lazily from a scratch on her leg that a younger apprentice named Ashpaw had given her-but she had roughed her up too, bitten her ears and dogged her until she ran blindly into a bramble patch. Amusement rose to Strongpaw's mind at the memory, but she was feeling too peculiar to act on it. Peculiar like...like someone else should be at the burial, and the last sharing tongues of the fallen warrior. Someone close to her, some-

Strongpaw's tail puffed out to twice its size, she was so aghast. "Raintalon!" she shouted, racing to the elders' den, where the gray-blue warrior, Old Scratch, and Heart were conversing with Whitefoot and Graycloud. "_Raintalon_!" the cream-furred apprentice insisted, tapping her scratched-up flank with her tail. "You missed the burial! You missed Burrpelt's last sharing tongues! He was your mentor!"

Raintalon turned and looked at her sister with sad eyes. "I know," she mewed softly, "but don't worry, Strongpaw. I was there when Hareface attacked him. I've already said my goodbye. And he knows." Her voice was heavy and serious, so unlike the hopeful new apprentice that had murmured to her long ago at their ceremony, "I hope Dawnfur's my mentor." Strongpaw felt a pang of sorrow. What had happened to their friendship, over the moons? Had it crumbled away like dry, brittle prey bones in greenleaf, or swooped away like the countless sparrows they had caught in newleaf, when they were barely apprentices?

Lost in her reverie, Strongpaw didn't snap out of it until a limping Ferretface called to her, "Strongpaw! Better get that scratch checked out before it gets infected."

The cream-colored she-cat shook her head, blinking. "Er. Okay. Thanks, Ferretface. B-bye, Raintalon." Her sister nodded to her formally, and Strongpaw left in haste, not only because the awkwardness between the two siblings was getting unbearably nostalgic but also because the blood trickling from her scratch had left so much puddled around camp that she was getting woozy.

Nightshine and Hareheart were patching up a loudly complaining Snowfrost, whose formal, polite guise had been shed now that she was actually injured. Strongpaw padded over-and groaned. There was a crowd of cats awaiting assistance! She would have to wait. Grumbling, the cream apprentice plopped down in an empty spot in the jostled line, right behind Duskyfoot, who was chatting with Leopardbelly, though the ebony warrior seemed unharmed, while Duskyfoot had a bite mark on the scruff of her neck that bled scarlet drops and what looked to be a twisted paw. "Those WindClan cats may look like mangy rats, but they fight like starving foxes!" exclaimed Fernlight's sister to Leopardbelly, who nodded agreeably.

Strongpaw inched closer, as if to listen to their conversation, then decided against it and scooted back to her original place with a lonely sigh.

"You're bleeding."

Strongpaw flinched in surprise and whirled around to see Littlepaw. The black-and-white apprentice didn't appear injured-but the two brother apprentices skulking behind him did. Goosepaw's left eye was swollen and puce, and his jaw twisted oddly. Weaselpaw had a bloody ear and was missing whiskers. Strongpaw stared at the two siblings, shocked. They looked like they'd been through wars!

Then, remembering Littlepaw's words, Strongpaw stretched out her bleeding leg and watched the blood flow down to her pawtips. "I know," she replied simply.

Littlepaw winced at the sight of the red liquid, biting his lower lip and looking everywhere but at her scratched leg. "I..." Littlepaw began, then faltered, then began again. "I wish Burrpelt didn't die."

"Why are you here?" blurted out the cream-colored apprentice suddenly, "You're not hurt. I don't think you can be here."

Littlepaw stared at her, mint-green eyes wide. He blinked. "No, I asked Hareheart. He said visitors were fine. Especially since you're not ready to go in yet. If you were, then I wouldn't be able to see you."

"Why would you want to see me?" snapped Strongpaw harshly, tail lashing. After everything that had happened-the WindClan attack, those strange loners joining for the evening fresh-kill, and Burrpelt's burial-Littlepaw and his quirks just seemed annoying and grating.

The puny apprentice blinked again, his huge eyes sad. "B-because...you're my friend," he stammered a little uncertainly. His teeth dug into his lip once again, and Littlepaw took a tentative step back. "I can leave if you want."

Weaselpaw gave a faint snort of annoyance at being backed into and sidestepped toward his brother. "Strongpaw, he's being nice to you," he pointed out crossly. "Don't be such a badger about it."

Strongpaw turned her glare on Weaselpaw, fur bristling. "Since when are you best buddies with him?" she growled, eyes flashing. "Last time I checked you three were like a fish and two RiverClan warriors!"

"You take that back!" snarled Weaselpaw, eyes fierce. He stepped toward the cream she-cat menacingly. "You _know _we're not like that anymore!"

"How?!" snapped Strongpaw, baring her teeth. "For all I know, you could have been faking it!" She didn't know why she was so suddenly angry, but she welcomed the boil in her blood and the pounding in her head. She relished in Littlepaw's meekness and Weaselpaw's fury. She was terrified and enlivened.

"Why would we do that?!" yelped Goosepaw angrily, "Do you _really _think we'd fake grieving over our _dead sister _for a petty prank to make your fur bristle?!"

Littlepaw shrank back at the harsh words being flung between the three ferocious apprentices. His black-splotched ears laid flat against his skull.

"Well...well..." stammered Strongpaw, momentarily at a loss for words. The fury inside of her lessened a bit, then came back full throttle. "...I suppose not. But why would you come to _me _if you _hate _me so much? Why couldn't you go cry on your _mother's _shoulder instead of mine?!"

Goosepaw's eyes blared murderously, as did Weaselpaw's, two identical, wicked flashes of brown and yellow. "You're right," Weaselpaw growled lowly, eyes steely, unfeeling.

Strongpaw felt her lips curl back over her bared teeth in a smug smirk. "Yes," she hissed, "Go cry on your mo-"

"I _do _hate you."

The words slammed into Strongpaw, almost knocking her off her paws. The hatred etched in them poured through her veins, turning her blood to ice. The words made her lungs shift and close. She couldn't breathe. Strongpaw clawed violently at the dirt, gurgling saliva in her throat, blue eyes bulging desperately. But the frozen states of all the cats around her, including the glittery-eyed Weaselpaw and Goosepaw and the frightened Littlepaw-did not thaw, and she slowly felt herself drown to death in a trap of her own design.

"Strongpaw? It's your turn."

Strongpaw blinked hard, eyes streaming. She turned to a concerned-looking Hareheart and mewed woodenly, "I was daydreaming. Sorry. My leg's bleeding from a scratch."

_"I _do _hate you."_

The two sons of Sparrowfeather and Lionclaw was gone. Only Littlepaw remained, looking just as shocked as Strongpaw felt. She didn't look at him as Hareheart carefully wrapped spiderwebs around her wound. _"B-because...you're my friend." _

She swallowed hard, a lump bobbing in her throat. If she looked down at the ground she could see the tips of his paws.

"I don't know why they said that," Littlepaw mumbled cautiously, mint eyes cast onto the ground. "I don't think they meant it, if you're sad about them."

"It's okay." Hareheart's pelt tickled her injured leg as he worked. "I'm okay."

"Does your leg hurt?"

"A little." Hareheart grunted in a muffled tone, finally finishing the wrappings and straightening.

"Well," he meowed cheerfully, "You're all good now, Strongpaw. It was good you came when you did-all things considered, that was a pretty bad scratch, could've easily gotten infected. Come back tomorrow morning so I can change the spiderwebs, okay?"

Strongpaw nodded. "Okay. Thank you, Hareheart."

The brown medicine cat nodded back and smiled at the compliment, then turned to Littlepaw. "You're not hurt, are you?" he asked doubtfully. Littlepaw shook his head vehemently, then walked away with one last worried glance at Strongpaw.

Hareheart turned back to Strongpaw, shaking her head in disbelief. "That is one strange tom," he meowed.

Strongpaw gave a weak, forced _mrrow _of amusement. "You have no idea."

_-Chapter Forty-Four: Hareheart and Strongpaw Talk-_

The crispness of the air the next morning woke Strongpaw early, before Blossompelt had set a paw in the apprentices' den. She walked out of the den, to her surprise, with ease. Usually Weaselpaw, Goosepaw, and Littlepaw slept so close to her she had to step over them as gingerly as she could to get out of the den. As she looked around, she could see with a tremor of sadness in her belly that Goosepaw and Weaselpaw slept, tucked together, their injuries still uncared for, in the farthest corner of the apprentices' den, their haunches practically verging on the wall of mud, stones, and sticks. Littlepaw slept on the left of the den, small and weak-looking without the pelts of his denmates brushing against his.

With a jolt, Strongpaw remembered yesterday's argument, and felt a pang of heaviness weigh in on her. She didn't want to fight. Not now, even with them. The WindClan attack had shaken her greatly-it had been her first real battle, however brief it had been. The merciless screeches of the WindClan warriors made her liver quiver, and the coldness in their eyes as they beat down her Clanmates made her sick. Strongpaw refused to admit that to her mother, who had been badly scarred in the battle. Her left eye had a puffy pink scar running over the eyelid, the fur that had been there wrenched off by Jaysong's sharp claws. Fernlight had talked quietly with her about it at the evening meal, under the mighty oak. The swelling would go down over time, Nightshine had said to her, but the scar would leave a faint trace upon the bare little sliver of skin on her eyelid for the remainer of her days.

Strongpaw closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The breeze played with her chest fur as it rose and fell. Those odd loners had left after they ate, to the slight disappointment of the elders-she could feel it on them as they trudged slowly back to their den. Strongpaw could hear Whitefoot murmur to Graycloud as they walked by, "Such a nice young tom. Shame he had to leave so suddenly."

Just the concept of them staying longer made Strongpaw shudder. Those cats were creepy! Old Scratch, or whatever his name was, might've charmed the elders with regaling them with tales at the meal, but not her! Not Strongpaw.

The grayness of dawn had barely tinged the sky, Silverpelt still faintly shining in the dusky horizon. Strongpaw stared at it a little while, wondering if Burrpelt, Goldenpaw, and Trembletail were watching from StarClan. Were they thinking of the WindClan attack? Were they pondering the argument between the three ThunderClan apprentices? Or did they even care?

So absorbed in her own questions was Strongpaw that she didn't even realize Hareheart sneaking up on her. "Are you ready for me to replace those spiderwebs?" he sang, and the cream-colored she-cat jumped, fur bristling.

"Hareheart!" Strongpaw squawked, "Don't..._do _that. You scared me." She sheathed her claws, embarrassed. The light brown medicine cat just grinned humorously at her.

"Well," he persisted, "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Ready for me to replace those wrappings. Surely they're losing their soaking quality by now, and they start to smell like mildew if left on for too long. I was going to ask you later, but I just happened to spot you walking out of your den. You looked...sad. Melancholy." Hareheart glanced at the den, then back at Strongpaw, eyebrows furrowed. "Are you having trouble with your denmates?"

"Yes." Strongpaw bit her lip. "Well..._you _heard them. I snapped at them when they came up to me. I don't know _why _I was acting so..._sour_. Afterwards I felt so _mean_, like they didn't deserve what I spat at them. But I don't know how to fix it. I don't even know if they _want _me to fix it. It's just all so...messy."

Hareheart nodded knowingly, shifting on his paws. "I feel the same with Olivesong." When Strongpaw looked at him blankly, he prodded, "The WindClan medicine cat?"

"Oh." Strongpaw expression shifted to curiosity. "Why? I thought medicine cats weren't allowed to be close with other medicine cats from different Clans. Or...maybe it's something else." She shook her head. "I was never good with memorizing the warrior code."

Hareheart gave a _mrrow_. "That's okay. Medicine cats are allowed to be friendly to one another, but usually we end up more as polite acquaintaces. It's easier that way. But with apprentices it's different, because you can't really relate to the older medicine cats, and they're the only ones who you can feel comfortable talking to." He paused, a bit flushed. "Well, that's what it was like for me, anyway. I really liked Reedpaw and Olivesong, and I still do."

"Not-what's his name...y'know-Foxpaw? Why don't you like him?"

"He's moody, and not very nice," Hareheart explained, "But Olivesong and Reedpaw were. Then Graylily, the chief WindClan medicine cat, disappeared again-"

"Again?" Strongpaw interrupted, disbelieving. Her blue eyes stretched widely. "When did she last disappear?"

"Moons and moons and _moons _ago. Nightshine told me she ran away with the medicine cat before Bluestorm-Rocktail, I think his name was. Nightshine calls Graylily a _temptress_."

Strongpaw blinked thoughtfully as the faint pink of dawn warmed the gray horizon. "I wonder if she ran away with anyone this time," she mewed.

"I think she went alone. Olivesong didn't tell anyone about anything, though. She became really quiet after that. I don't think she can handle RiverClan on her own, with all the cats being sick and all."

The two ThunderClan cats were quiet, observing as the pink sky flushed rosily, orange lighting the sky as the sun rose. They could hear warriors and apprentices stirring in their dens, the noisy chirping of sparrows and cawing of crows waking them to a brand new day. Out of the corner of her eye Strongpaw could see her mentor, Blossompelt, walking out her den and stretching. The white she-cat's ribs expanded, bones bulging through her soft chest, then shook her head, haunches settling as she sat and groomed her paw delicately.

Duskyfoot and Dawnfur padded out after, chatting. Strongpaw was watching them as they walked toward the fresh-kill pile when Hareheart hissed in her ear, "Look! In Antstar's den."

Strongpaw looked-and was surprised to see her own father, Stormclaw, stroll lazily out of the ThunderClan leader's den. Her paws prickled with betrayal and anger. Though she had always suspected her father was having an affair with the leader of ThunderClan ever since she didn't see him come into the warriors' den one windy night in leaf-bare, she hadn't been prepared to see him coming out of her den so...so..._openly_, like he felt comfortable there. Like he _belonged _there. Strongpaw gritted her teeth. Maybe she'd give him the strong sons he really wanted.

"Strongpaw!" The creamy-furred apprentice turned, startled, to see Blossompelt, walking over, a smile on her muzzle. "Since when were you an early-bird?"

Strongpaw smiled at her mentor. "Um...I guess I just got lucky today."

The white warrior was looking towards the apprentices' den, her smile gone. "Where's Littlepaw?" she asked sternly, "Still sleeping, I suppose." She stepped over Strongpaw's right haunch and peered more closely into the dimness.

"D-don't blame him," Strongpaw stuttered unexpectedly, surprised at her own audacity. "He had a rough night."

Blossompelt craned her head to look at her apprentice strangely. Her amber eyes glittered sharply as she meowed, "Excuses, excuses. That young tom should've been up when the birds let out their first chirps. All of those lazy apprentices should've."

Hareheart left soon after Weaselpaw, Goosepaw, and Littlepaw woke, leaving Strongpaw to shift uncomfortably as the three stumbled out of the den, Blossompelt marching ahead of them. "Poppypelt and Crowtail are waiting!" she barked as the two brothers yawned, mouths gaping. "And you know how they hate dawdling."

The clowder of cats traveled to the sandy hollow, their pawsteps quiet in the hushed forest. Though Strongpaw could spot a frail-looking mouse nibbling a root of an oak tree, she didn't dare make a move to catch it. _I bet Blossompelt would be proud of me for seeking the mouse in the first place, _she thought, trying to make herself feel better and drown out her growling stomach.

When they arrived, Poppypelt and Crowtail were waiting under the willow, its long leaves brushing their chest fur. "Congratulations!" called out Poppypelt, the orange senior warrior beaming. "You've arrived at your Final Senses test, otherwise known as the very last milestone to pass until you are free to become fully fledged warriors."

_-Chapter Forty-Five: The Final Senses: Vision-_

Excitement exploded in Strongpaw's heart, flooding all worries and grief away. After all these moons, she was going to become a warrior! The excitement poured through her veins and spurted into her brain, filling it with white crackling noise. The sound was so great Strongpaw almost missed the mentors' speeches.

Crowtail turned to her apprentice, Weaselpaw. "My apprentice," she began formally, "I have watched you grow and learn throughout the moons. I have watched you strive through the death of your littermate and the dismissal of other warriors due to your inconveniant size. To some you may always be the runt of the litter of three, but to me you will always be the young tom who braved more in your kithood than some might endure possibly in their whole lifetime. And for this, you have my blessing." The ebony warrior strolled forward and touched her nose gently to the younger cat's forehead. Crowtail turned to the other mentors, Blossompelt joining Poppypelt after arriving, and meowed, "The Final Senses test may begin."

"Before we start," cut in Poppypelt, "I have to ask-what happened to you two?" Goosepaw and Weaselpaw looked at each other, a bit sheepishly, then glanced back at the orange senior warrior. "Er...they're from the WindClan battle," mumbled Goosepaw, shuffling his paws.

Poppypelt opened her mouth to speak, but before she could utter a word Blossompelt trilled, "No matter. If they pass the Senses test with their injuries taken into account it would only hold more weight with the Clan. Not to mention we're late anyway-Antstar wants their warriors' ceremony to be right when the sun rises fully, and we're already at the halfway mark." She looked up at the sky, the orange and red dawn softening to a comforting sky blue.

Poppypelt shifted on her paws, obviously unsatisfied with the interruption, but nevertheless began the test. "Weaselpaw," she said sternly, "Come with me. For the Senses test it is important the apprentice has a mentor other than his own to perform it. Come along."

Weaselpaw followed the senior warrior, looking meeker than usual. Goosepaw followed Blossompelt, along with Littlepaw, and Strongpaw, fur bristling with apprehension, followed Crowtail.

Not a word was mewed as the duo padded purposefully (well, Crowtail padded purposefully-Strongpaw padded more nervously) through some unruly fronds from a strange mound of trees, into a humid area that Strongpaw did not recognize at all. "W-where are we going?" she finally managed to croak out, the mentor's pointed silence getting to her. Crowtail just flicked her tail in response.

Sooner than Strongpaw had expected the two cats arrived in a small dirt area crowded with ferns, fronds, and slick green leaves. "Your first test," Crowtail meowed, green eyes shining strangely in the blocked sunlight, "is Vision."

Strongpaw was about to meow her confirmation when the black cat whipped out of sight, the last steely glint of her eyes gleaming in the rustling leaf of a nearby bush. Straining her eyes, Strongpaw could just barely see the glint as it shimmered out. Unsure, she warily padded over to the bush. The glint flashed again. Strongpaw's mouth curled up in a sneaky smile-then vanished. Her blue eyes darted right and left, now more aware. Was this a trick? Surely it couldn't be this easy! The cream apprentice gently lifted the large leaf with her upturned nose, then stared greedily down at her prize-what she assumed to be the murky green eyes of Crowtail gleaming up at her.

But wait...was Crowtail's eyes really that dark? Her eyes were more bright... Strongpaw looked closer, and felt the heavy paw of disappointment slap itself along her pelt. It was really a large green beetle, buzzing and flapping its quick-flashing wings in the wake of its glossy green shell. Its attennae twitched twice, then it scurried off. Strongpaw un-craned her neck and watched the leaf fall bouncily back in its usual place, feeling stupid._ How would Crowtail fit under that silly little bush, anyway? _she scolded herself, her fur hot with embarrassment. Strongpaw thanked StarClan no one could see her bumble up her first Senses test!

"Um...Crowtail?" she bleated weakly. No response. Feeling suddenly very alone, Strongpaw gave a sigh and straightened her slumping self. She had to be courageous! She had to be strong and brilliant! Not a weak little kit who cried out for her mother the second she had gone. Not that Crowtail _was _her mother. Strongpaw shuddered at the thought.

Taking a deep breath, Strongpaw concentrated again, straining her vision until it grew slightly blurry. It was then that she spotted a quick flash of ebony-it leapt out of a thick area full of fronds, soaring in a blurry streak, and dove into a clump of leaves and foliage not far from Strongpaw, rustling so many leaves and ferns in the process even the pebble near Strongpaw's hind paw trembled slightly. "Ah ha!" the cream apprentice meowed triumphantly, and promptly raced over to the spot where Crowtail had disappeared into.

"I've got you, now," murmured the apprentice happily as her head dove into the shaking plants. But the black warrior was gone. Cursing herself, Strongpaw pulled her face out of the foliage and shook off a few twigs and leaves stuck to her face fur.

"Ah ah ah," sang a faint voice from somewhere over the suddenly vast-looking plant lands, "No cheating in the Forest of Foliage!"

Strongpaw's ears perked up at the words-

"No ears, you simpleton. No other senses either, if you can help it."

Her ears drooped, and Strongpaw sighed, straining her eyes again and trotting over to the place where she thought she had almost certainly heard Crowtail's unmistakable voice, possibly. Maybe.

Nosing her way through the dense plants, Strongpaw's eyes scanned the field of flowers and other, less identifiable types of foliage desperately. The sun was already high in the sky, and she had to hurry if she wanted to finish all her Senses tests before dusk.

Happily, the cream apprentice found the ebony warrior just as the sun was making its way down from the graying sky. "Not good," said Crowtail abruptly, clucking in a "tsk tsk" fashion, as she trotted out of the thorn bush she was hiding in, Strongpaw walking with her. "Just terrible. Tsk! And I thought you'd be good at this."

Strongpaw's eyes widened in surprise and anger. "I...I thought I did pretty good," she said defensively, ears laid back. Crowtail looked back at her-she had taken the lead, like always-condescendingly.

"You would think that." the ebony she-cat tsk'ed again and kept moving, tail whipping side to side. "I'd better tell Poppypelt. Terrible, simply horrid. You needed my help, for StarClan's sake! Clumsy, simple-minded, that's what this display today made me think of you as, and I know you aren't. You shouldn't have needed me to call out to you...makes me think, makes me wonder if you're really ready to be a warrior!"

At this last mutter Strongpaw's fur bristled with rage. "Not ready to be a warrior, my tail!" she yelled, voice cracking. "I've been working long and hard, harder than the rest, harder than you warriors-I deserve to be one, I do! I really, really do!"

Crowtail stopped, turned to face the enraged apprentice, and stared at her contemptuously. "We'll see," she growled, whirling back around and starting to walk again. The air was filled with the twitterings of birds, but nothing more. Strongpaw was done talking, feeling sullen and underappreciated. What had she done to have such a...such an _annoying _mentor, anyway? Surely she hadn't been as rude to Blossompelt lately!

"We'll finish the Senses test tomorrow," the ebony warrior snapped to Strongpaw shortly after they arrived in the sandy hollow. The sinking sun cast a soft light that made the dust beneath their paws glow orange. Strongpaw idly watched a songbird flit from one flimsy branch to the other on the top of a tree nearby. "Strongpaw, are you listening?" snarled Crowtail, tail-tip flicking irritably. "The others will be back soon. If you pay attention you might just make it past the other tests. It _is _important to you that you become a warrior, yes?"

Strongpaw wrenched her attention away from the bird. "It is," she answered, a little snippishly, "Very much so."

"Then pay attention and work at it. You won't get anywhere in the Clans with a snappy attitude and sulking."

Strongpaw sniffed at Crowtail's comment and remained sulkish for the rest of the day. Her brooding looks scanned the forest floor as the cluster of cats padded back to camp, and scoured the elders' pelts as she checked for ticks. She kept her face that twisted, snarling way all through the evening patrol, even when Fernlight told her that "it'll stick that way". She didn't care. Strongpaw was above caring. She hated Crowtail and the Senses test. Did _Raintalon _get a Senses test? Noooo, she got a-wait. Strongpaw sat up on her bed of moss, excitement coursing through her veins. No! Raintalon didn't get a Senses test...she got an assessment. But why? Why not a test? Why didn't Strongpaw get an assessment? The cream she-cat stared at her paws as they kneaded the moss curiously. She had to know.

* * *

**_~END OF PART ONE~_**

* * *

**CONGRATULATIONS, READER! You have reached the end of Part One of Strongpaw's story! Yes, it was hard, long, grueling, hypnotizing, life-ruining, and you're pretty sure you're dying of starvation right now, but, erm, hopefully my wonderful, magnificent beginning of Strongpaw's tale made up for it, right? **

**Right? **

**No? O.O**

**Oh. Well, then that's just too bad, because that is all I have to offer you. No cookies or cupcakes or churros, nothing! You're most certainly banging your fists on your table or desk or dog's intestines or wherever you have your computer/iPhone/iPod Touch/iPad/awesome futuristic tablet reading technological thingamajig right now, and I do not blame you if your desk breaks or your table splinters or your dog's intestines collapse from the sheerness of your RAGE!, because it is my fault for writing such a long and nonsensical story that is not even over yet. **

**So.**

**I hope you have enjoyed as much as you could've due to of Part One's longness, and if you haven't enjoyed yourself at all then consider your time thoroughly wasted and write a good old-fashioned rant about it on your blog. I tip my hat to you, good sirs and madams, for finishing Part One, and just being a reader of the "Warriors" series in general. Goodbye, and 'til next time!**

**Signed, **

**_~PancakesWithMilk~ _**

**Post Script (or, for you less-than-well-read people, "P.S."): Please rate and review! Thank-you very much for reading my first piece of fanfiction in the whole wide world, and have a tip-top day! **


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